Two Princes
by Cocobel
Summary: Because every good girl wants a bad boy to be good just for her. Modern AU, so characters will be OOC. Chance of fluff. [Arthur x Elizabeth] [Elizabeth x Meliodas] This is my first fanfic, so please read and review!
1. Two Princes

**– 1 –**

 **Two Princes**

 _December 31_

 _Happy New Year's Eve to you, my dear diary, my closest confidant and friend. It is my birthday tonight, when the clock chimes midnight and the ball drops, like every year, and Mother always said that even though she did not give birth to me, I was her New Year's baby, the greatest gift she received that year. This time of year especially, I miss her so much._

 _Father is as wrapped up in business as ever, and I suspect he is counting on Arthur to be the one to make my birthday special. My sisters are equally distracted, though I know they will at least bother to recognize the occasion when they rise in the morning. I know I should be happy for Father, and how the Liones Vineyards and Winery is so quickly expanding into the sort of powerhouse he always envisioned—and perhaps also I should be so grateful for his partnership with Arthur's father, and what that means for our family and for myself. But a daughter needs her father…and I miss the father he was before we became wealthy and influential._

 _As much as I might wish that he would not, I suppose his expectations are not misplaced, to depend on Arthur to take care of my birthday. Arthur is as sweet and kind as any young man, and even more so because with his family's money and connections, he is neither entitled nor arrogant. Father praises him highly, so often, and stresses what a good match it is. I guess he's still surprised—as was I—when Arthur displayed an interest in me rather than in Margaret. (I know she wasn't displeased, though, as wrapped up as she is in a romance with Gil.) Yes, he is wonderful…and I do look forward to whatever he may have in store for me. For us._

 _But…_ Elizabeth muses, staying the pen in her hand… There is no need to write the thought, nor to even finish it. The single, tiny "But" is enough.

Sighing, she closes her diary and secures the lock with the tiny silver key kept on a chain around her neck, and tucks the small book away in an inconspicuous place on her bookshelf. It blends in well; nobody's attention would ever be drawn to it, and that is exactly what she needs. After all, every girl is entitled to a secret. Or a few.

"Elizabeth?" A soft knock on the white bedroom door; Elizabeth quickly gets up and goes to pull it open.

"Come in, Margaret." She invites her sister to take a seat on the window cushion next to her, one slender leg tucked beneath her body, and she cuddles one of the throw pillows.

"Happy birthday, little sister." Margaret pulls her into a warm, lingering hug, and Elizabeth breathes in the perfume of her sister's long locks. It's the same shampoo their mother used to use, and it only brings Elizabeth to miss her more terribly.

"Thank you, M."

"I have something for you. Veronica helped me pick it out; she said the color would complement your eyes. It was Mother's." Margaret pulls a small box from the pocket of her house robe, and hands it to Elizabeth, who smooths her fingers over the soft velvet before opening it.

"Oh, Margaret… It's so beautiful." She lifts a ring from the slit in the velvet bed, and holds it toward the soft yellow glow from her bedside lamp. A rainbow of colors dances across the smooth surface of the opal, set daintily in rose gold, and Elizabeth tries it on every finger. It will only fit the fourth finger of her left hand, and Margaret chuckles. "Maybe people will think you're engaged. But Father will recognize the ring, and make sure you tell Arthur and his family that it was Mother's. To clarify."

Elizabeth nods, and cradles her left hand with her right, next to her heart. "Thank you so much, Margaret. I'll always wear it."

Her sister takes hold of her hand and examines how perfectly the ring decorates her delicate white finger. "You remember how much Mother loved opals, and how she loved you. I know she would have wanted you to have it."

The sisters hug one last time, before Margaret says goodnight and swishes away to her own bedroom; no doubt to talk on the phone with Gil until sunrise. Elizabeth closes the door after her sister's departure, and glances at the clock on her night table: 11:59. As soon as the numbers flash 12:00, midnight, her own phone chimes with the text message she expected: " _I know you're still awake, and I want to be the first today to wish you a happy birthday. Margaret probably beat me to it, didn't she? I can't wait to spend your special day with you. Love, Arthur_." Elizabeth smiles at the sincerity behind the text, and snuggles into bed for a few hours' pleasant dreams of opals and a Prince Charming…

* * *

Elizabeth never bothers to hope for a pleasant awakening on the morn of her birthday, and this year is no different: she is woken not by rays of sun gently streaming through the window, or by the mouthwatering scent of blueberry pancakes wafting up the mansion stairs, but by her second eldest sister, Veronica, leaping on top of her bed and pinning her beneath the down pillows and silk comforter.

" _Happy birthday, Ellie!_ " Veronica shrieks, and Elizabeth clutches a pillow over her head to muffle the noise. Yes—never the most pleasant way to wake up, but probably payback for all those times Elizabeth woke Veronica up the same way—every birthday, every Christmas, and every other day of the year.

"Thank you, Veronica." Elizabeth gives in and wriggles out from underneath her sister just enough to pull herself into a sitting position in bed, where she allows herself the luxury of a morning yawn and stretch. "Where's Margaret?"

"Cooking blueberry pancakes, your favorite!" Veronica smiles. "She should just now be starting; I told her to wait until she heard me yell, so that I'd wake you up, and not the smell of food."

Elizabeth rolls her crystal blue eyes, and attempts to shove Veronica onto the floor, unsuccessfully, and her sister's bright brown eyes twinkle. "Come on!" She grabs Elizabeth's hand and tugs her out of bed, out the door, and down the stairs.

In the large, open kitchen, Margaret carefully butters a stack of blueberry pancakes, and pours syrup over it, just in time to place it in front of Elizabeth's usual barstool at the island. The two sisters exchange smiles, and Elizabeth quickly digs in, savoring the fluffiness on her tongue, the sweet tang of maple syrup, and the bursting blueberries. "Just like Mother's," she complimented Margaret.

Veronica helps herself to the barstool next to her younger sister. "So, what does Arthur have planned for you today?" She raises her eyebrows in suggestion, and Elizabeth nearly chokes on her pancakes, blushing furiously.

"Nothing like that, I'd imagine!" She washes down the bite with a sip of milk. "But I'm sure whatever he has planned today will be a surprise. Father seems to be counting on him to make my birthday special, after all."

"As if he could ever top how _we_ make your birthday special!" Veronica chortles. Margaret merely smiles as she cleans up the kitchen, and joins her sisters with her own plate.

"Whatever it is, Elizabeth, Father would probably like to see you before you leave today. He said he would be in the wine cellar this morning, taking inventory, and meeting with a prospective new customer. You and Arthur should stop down there first."

* * *

Never one to run late, Elizabeth is _just_ finishing getting ready by the time the doorbell rings downstairs. She knows it's Arthur even before Margaret opens the door, because he never keeps her waiting. They work together so fluidly, like a well-oiled machine, Elizabeth and Arthur.

"Elizabeth!"

"Coming!" She gives herself one last smile in the mirror. _Perfect._

"Happy birthday, Elizabeth!" Just the top of Arthur's unruly, fiery red hair is visible behind the enormous bouquet of flowers in his arms, and she stifles a laugh as she descends the stairs. Veronica steps in to take the offering, and as soon as Arthur has been relieved of it, his gaze falls on Elizabeth and his jaw slackens. "You look… Wow."

"It's my birthday and I'll dress up if I want to!" She giggles, and he takes her by the hand and twirls her so that the short skirt of her dress flares above her knees, but carefully so that she does not trip in her high-heeled sandals.

"You look beautiful, Ellie," Veronica reassures her as she hands Elizabeth her khaki Burberry trench coat from the hall closet. "Take care of her, Arthur." He nods in response to her narrowed eyes.

"Don't forget to visit Father downstairs before you go!" Margaret calls, as Arthur helps Elizabeth into her coat and opens the front door for her.

"We can go in the back way."

* * *

Bartra Liones' wine cellar is his sanctuary, and the only place where he spends more time is in his office at the Vineyards and Winery proper, usually with a glass of red well within reach as he does his work. Elizabeth and her sisters rarely venture down into the depths of the cellar, but Elizabeth leads Arthur around the back of the mansion, to a set of double wooden doors currently unlocked, and he places a protective hand on the small of her back as she pulls open one of the doors and makes a way down the dimly lit steps inside.

"Father! Are you down here?" she calls into the darkness.

"Elizabeth, my dear! I'm in the '1900s Vintages' section!" Bartra's baritone floats back, and Elizabeth winds her way through the maze of wide aisles until she locates her father, and apparently the guest that Margaret had spoken of. Bartra is in the middle of pointing out and describing in great detail several different vintages from several different years, and Elizabeth and Arthur wait patiently nearby until he has paused to take a breath, and turns his attention to them.

"Elizabeth, happy birthday, my dear!" He embraces her fondly, but quickly releases her and catches Arthur's hand in a warm, firm shake. "Arthur, my boy! How are you? How is your father? When can I expect to see him again?"

"He has been preoccupied with business, sir, but intends to have another dinner party soon, and will be stopping by to discuss the menu and wine list." Arthur smiles proudly when he speaks of his father, Uther, and his booming success. In the short, quick conversation that ensues, Elizabeth's blue eyes wander over the stranger leaning lazily against a stone column, hands tucked into the pockets of beat-up jeans, eyes half-closed as though in boredom.

He is shorter than she, especially slouching like that, but his projected demeanor indicates that he is at least her age, if not somewhat older; none of the young men she and Arthur attend school with, save for Arthur himself, project such confidence. Long blond hair is very tousled—probably styled that way, as most other boys would do, but Elizabeth can't help but wonder if it's actually natural—this young man is not one who seems like he would be particularly interested in styling his hair whatsoever. As she studies the black T-shirt he wears beneath a worn leather jacket, deciding that his build must be toned without being overly muscular, deep emerald eyes flick in her direction, and she glances up to lock gazes with the stranger—letting out a gasp of surprise, and looking away as quickly as she can while her cheeks redden at being caught staring. She turns away and fidgets with one of the buttons on her coat, and tries to focus on the conversation her father and boyfriend are in the middle of, and Arthur glances her way and smiles. Bartra follows his gaze.

"Oh, Arthur, I'm so sorry! This is a new patron of mine." He takes Arthur's arm and gestures toward the stranger, who casually steps away from the wall and reluctantly takes his gaze off Elizabeth. "This is Meliodas. His father has opened an esteemed tavern in town, and is looking to do business!" Bartra is hard-pressed to hide his excitement. "Meliodas, this is Arthur, the only son of one of my best customers."

"I told you, _I_ own the tavern," the blond drawls, trying his hardest not to roll his green eyes. "Hey. Arthur, was it?" He disinterestedly shakes the hand that Arthur offers him. "And who is this?" His gaze returns to Elizabeth, still looking down and fidgeting with her coat.

"Elizabeth, don't be rude!" Bartra grips his daughter's arm and pulls her into the little circle the three men have made. "This is my youngest daughter, Elizabeth."

Arthur wraps a protective arm around Elizabeth's waist, as Meliodas' eyes travel up and down her in appreciation once more. "My girlfriend." His violet gaze cuts to Bartra. "We had better be off, Bartra; I have a full day planned for her birthday, and dinner reservations we don't want to miss!"

"Of course, of course." Bartra nods his head furiously, obviously grateful that Arthur has taken off his shoulders the burden of giving Elizabeth a full, special day.

"Happy birthday, Elizabeth." Meliodas' tone is quiet, his voice husky, and the blush on her cheeks deepens, as she stutters a response.

"Th-thank you, M-Meliodas." Inwardly she curses herself; why couldn't she at least _seem_ confident, like Margaret would have been able to appear, or Veronica would have actually been? She takes a deep breath to steady her voice. "It has been a pleasure to meet you." She places a kiss on her father's cheek. "See you tonight, Father." And clasps hands with Arthur, and they take their leave together. Never noticing that Meliodas silently watches her go, until she is gone.


	2. In Like

**– 2 –**

 **In Like**

After the sun has set that night, Meliodas lies awake in a modest, queen-sized bed on the second floor of the Boar's Hat Tavern, his hands clasped behind his head, and moonlight streaming in through a window without curtains. Pretty girl, that Elizabeth, with such bright blue eyes—or _eye_ , as the right is covered by silky bangs—and silver hair. She seemed so innocent and unsure of herself, too, but the way she said goodbye to him told him that there must be another side to this girl that even she herself may be unaware of.

"Elizabeth." He tries out the name, the way it tastes on his lips, rolls off his tongue. The way it sounds to his keen ears, and…the way it makes the space behind his belly button twinge? That's odd… _Elizabeth._ Huh. Happened again.

He closes his eyes and recalls how that dress underneath her trench coat hugged her slender hourglass figure, and how her toenails, revealed by those sandals, were painted baby pink. His mental image travels upward as he remembers how she fiddled with the coat button after he caught her looking at him—a thought that pleases him greatly—and he frowns as he sees a detail that had escaped him before: a ring, on a very significant finger. Not a diamond, but it doesn't have to be a diamond to have _that_ kind of meaning, especially when worn on _that_ finger. Except…hadn't Arthur introduced her as his girlfriend? Yes, "girlfriend"—not "fiancée."

Meliodas opens his eyes and gazes at his bedroom ceiling, white with exposed wood beams, and his lips curl into a smirk. Not a fiancée, not an engagement ring. Not that it would have mattered, would it?

He'd bought plenty of ale from Bartra today, and it was delivered in the afternoon, but perhaps…perhaps after the sun comes up, he will have to pay another visit to the owner of Liones' Vineyards and Winery. To see about purchasing some wine, of course.

 _And maybe…_ If he's so lucky… " _Elizabeth._ "

* * *

Meanwhile, Elizabeth is lying awake in her canopied bed, tossing and turning in the silk sheets, replaying her birthday over and over in her head. It was a beautiful day, just as she had expected it would be, because Arthur would not allow her to have anything less than the best, and she enjoyed every gift, every surprise, every moment with him. Father is probably right, and there is no better match for her than Arthur Pendragon, who constantly reassures her of his love and affection for her by how he treats her like a queen. Perhaps even better than Gil treats Margaret, and they have been so happily in love for longer than Elizabeth and Arthur have even known each other. _But…_

Yes. There it is again, that _but_. That tiny, hesitant _but_ that does not specifically indicate anything…but even just the presence of which…

She rolls onto her side and tucks a bent arm underneath her head, letting out a deep and dramatic sigh. _But_ does she love Arthur? She wonders if that could be what that _but_ is all about; the question has passed through her mind before. They've only been together a few months, and she is only fifteen now—certainly too young to be certain of anything about love, right? Neither has yet said those three words to the other, and maybe it's another indication—maybe she's only in _like_. Elizabeth shakes her head at the thought. _In like_ —like she's in kindergarten.

She twists the opal ring on her finger, frowning thoughtfully, and before she realizes what she's thinking she wonders if Meliodas noticed it, and what he thought. _No, Elizabeth!_ She nibbles her lip and chases away the unwelcome thought, and she glances at the canopy above her head, heavenward. "What do you think, Mother?" she whispers.

Of course there is no reply, and when she does finally manage to drift off to sleep, her dreams are haunted by a knowing smirk and a pair of emerald eyes, deep enough to drown in.

* * *

 _January 3_

 _I consider myself lucky to have been born at the end of December, because even if my birthday_ _could_ _be overshadowed by the holiday season, at least I never have to be in school. Alas, winter break does not last forever, and tomorrow Veronica and Arthur and I will return to school. Margaret has another week before she has to resume her classes at the university, so she and Gil are going to take a special trip just for the two of them. It's such a sweet idea, I think, but I can't even imagine doing such a thing with Arthur. Instead, he'll pick me up for school in the morning, and we'll walk in together, just like we always do, and life will go on. With her morning period off, Veronica is allowed to sleep in a little later than I am._

 _I had a wonderful birthday. Arthur brought flowers—the biggest, most beautiful bouquet I've ever seen—and then he took me all over the city on a sort of scavenger hunt to the places that are special to us. At the end of it, we had dinner reservations at Le Mitron (!), that ridiculously expensive, elegant French restaurant downtown, and I was wearing a dress and heels, but I felt like I should have dressed up more! The waiters spoke French and carried pristine white linen napkins over their arms, matching the pristine white linen tablecloths, and the food was like nothing I've ever had before. It was absolutely… Words. There are no words._

Elizabeth pauses in her journaling, and nibbles on the inside of her lower lip. Should she…? Well…it happened, didn't it…?

 _Before Arthur and I left, we said goodbye to Father, in the wine cellar as usual, and he introduced us to a new patron of his, named Meliodas. He doesn't look any older than me! Father said that Meliodas' father owns a tavern in town and is looking to do business, but I heard Meliodas say that_ _he_ _, not his dad, owns the tavern. Again, he looks too young…but the way he said it made me believe he really was telling the truth._

 _He came back the next day, yesterday, I guess it was, actually, and from the gleam in Father's eye when he finally came inside the house, Meliodas must have bought a good amount of something. I only know he returned because Margaret sent me to the cellar with a sandwich for Father—he always forgets to eat when he's at work—and to ask which wine should Margaret take to her dinner with Gil's parents? Meliodas was with him. I tried not to notice him this time, but of course I did as soon as I saw the messy blond hair, and he wore the same leather jacket… Looked at me with those same green eyes… So very green…_

The instant Elizabeth realizes what she is scribbling about, she thumps the diary shut and nearly tosses it across the room. _No, no, there is no need to go there. You don't know anything about this Meliodas character, and he gives off such a forbidden, dangerous vibe. His eyes aren't even that green!_

Quickly, a distraction. As she sorts through her closet to pick out the perfect back-to-school outfit for tomorrow, she quashes the nagging thought that she was only trying to convince herself that they're not so green.

They are. Very, very green.

Elizabeth chooses a swishy lavender skirt, fitted grey T-shirt, and denim jacket to wear tomorrow. It will be cold outside, but plenty warm in Arthur's car and in the school, so she isn't concerned, and hangs the outfit on her closet door so it will be easy to put on in the morning.

" _Hey, beautiful_ ," pops up the text message on her phone, next to a thumbnail image of Arthur's brightest smile. " _Can't wait to see you tomorrow morning. Don't pack a lunch; I'll take you out._ " At the end of the message is a heart emoji. Elizabeth sighs. _How much more perfect could he be?_

* * *

Ale froths over the side of an old-fashioned wooden mug, and Meliodas frowns.

The ale is delicious, and the weight of the mug in his hand feels good. The Boar's Hat is clean, and currently closed, but quickly and easily fills up when open. He is set for the next couple of weeks, at least, with the amount of ale, beer, and wine that Bartra Liones sent him away with. It cost a pretty penny, but he has plenty to spare.

So why does he frown?

 _Elizabeth…_

He should have known that seeing her again would be a mistake. Now, she won't get out of his head.

She came skipping down the stairs the day before—a different staircase than the first day, so he concluded she must have come from inside the house—with a plate in one hand and a bright smile that was immediately replaced by a surprised blush when her eyes met his, and she nearly tripped over the last steps… A very selfish part of him wishes that she had tripped, so that he would have had the opportunity to catch her.

It was such a quick encounter—one minute she was there, and the next she was running back up the stairs as though something had frightened her—could it have been him? He didn't even have the chance to say hello…and he would have liked to. Perhaps share a bottle of wine with her, and say other things…

 _Meliodas, wake up._ He shakes a daydream out of his head, the tousled blond strands falling into his eyes, and drains the mug of ale. The potent alcohol settles into his system immediately, relaxing him, though not nearly enough to impair his senses.

That's good. Wouldn't want to be hungover tomorrow for his first day…

* * *

 **A/N: Thank you to everyone who has favorited/followed this story or me, and left reviews! I wasn't sure what the response to this piece would be, but the positivity and feedback have been so encouraging. Every one of you is awesome. *hearts***


	3. Dragon Rider

**– 3 –**

 **Dragon Rider**

"Elizabeth!"

"Diane!" Elizabeth pulls her hand from Arthur's grasp to run straight into the arms of her best friend. Diane, taller than Elizabeth, with violet eyes similar to Arthur's, and gleaming brown curls, picks Elizabeth up and spins her around in the middle of the school hallway.

"I missed you so much, Elizabeth! How was your birthday? I'm sorry I missed it!"

"How was your cruise with your parents?" Elizabeth, now with her feet firmly on the floor, still holds Diane's hands, and excitedly embraces her again. "And King? Did you see him at all during the break?"

"Well…" Diane pulls her hands away and blushes, tucking one arm behind her back and playing with one of her curls with her other hand. Her eyes light up. " _He went with us!_ Oh, Elizabeth, it was _amazing_! And he got along so well with my parents, I never would have imagined!"

"Oh, that's wonderful!"

The girls chatter on, too quickly and excitedly for Arthur to keep up, and he is visibly relieved as soon as King comes down the hallway, followed by his younger sister, Elaine, holding hands with her boyfriend, Ban. Elaine pulls away to join Elizabeth and Diane, and the excitement surges once again, while the three boys stand around and exchange pleasantries in their own, somewhat awkward, way, until the bell rings and they must all part for their classes. Elizabeth is unfortunate enough to not have first period with any of her friends, so she enters the classroom alone, and takes her usual seat, at the end of the second row, close to the door.

Only a few minutes pass before the teacher stands in front of the room, takes roll, begins the lecture. Elizabeth tries to concentrate on her textbook but ends up contemplating a dozen different scenarios she would rather find herself in than this one, when the classroom door opens and closes loudly, and the teacher stops mid-sentence, and she can almost _hear_ the class collectively turn their heads.

The instant her blue eyes lock with his green ones, she lets out a gasp, and he smirks as now all heads turn to look at her. As quickly as she can break her gaze, she stares down at her desk, feeling her face turn very pink.

"…Okay, Meliodas, you can take that empty seat, there."

From the corner of her eye… _No. No, no… Oh, God._ Meliodas slides into the only available seat in the room…next to hers, and she can tell that he is still smirking—as though maybe everything was happening for him exactly as he planned.

"Hey," he whispers.

Elizabeth stays focused on her desk.

"Meliodas," Mr. Zaratras addresses him, "since you don't have a textbook, look on with Elizabeth. I'll try to have one for you by next class."

He nods—"Thanks!"—and immediately returns his attention to her. "So…"

She swallows. _Elizabeth, breathe. It's just Meliodas, your father's client. He doesn't bite. But what is he doing here…?_ She and Meliodas slide their desks midway into the aisle so that she can share her book with him, and Mr. Zaratras resumes droning on about Britannian history, often turning his back to put terms or concepts on the white board, and Elizabeth seizes the opportunity to whisper to her new classmate. "What are you doing here?"

"Nice to see you again, too," he chuckles softly. "I'm attending school, same as you."

"But—I thought—" She's momentarily stumped, unsure of what to say. _I thought you were too old for high school? I thought you, not your father, owns the bar? I thought you didn't have to be here?_ She settles for, "I didn't expect to see you."

He shrugs, and casually laces his fingers behind his head. "Got nothin' better to do during the day."

She would like to point out that, if he is a bar owner, there must be plenty to do during the day—cleaning, cooking, inventory, book balancing—but Mr. Zaratras clears his throat then for attention.

"Okay, class. You remember the first of the year, I mentioned that there would be a semester partner project when we come back after the break?" [Collective groans around the room.] "I know, I know, but it has to be done. Two people to a project paper. Choose your partners wisely, because you will be working closely with them for the next eight weeks on this assignment, which will be worth 40 percent of your final grade. Meliodas…since you probably don't know anybody… Elizabeth, would you mind partnering up with him?"

The very white grin on the blond's face widens, and Elizabeth slides down in her chair. "…Y-Yes, Mr. Zaratras."

Fortunately, the bell rings just then, and she bolts from her chair into the hallway.

"Wait!" Meliodas quickly catches up with her and gently grabs her wrist, pulling her back to look at his face, still grinning like the Cheshire Cat. "If we're project partners, shouldn't we at least exchange phone numbers?"

She nibbles on her lower lip for a split second, in debate, and finally raises her eyes to look into his. "If you really do own and run a business that is successful enough for you to be doing business with my father now, then I don't know what you're doing here, in high school. But you need to understand that it _matters_ to me how well I do on this project, and in this class, so do not mess it up for me. Please."

Even she is surprised by her outburst, but she prays that her breathing remains steady and the color of her cheeks does not deepen to give her away. Meliodas is silent, studying her, and finally nods. "I want you to do well, too, Elizabeth. Trust me." He pulls a cell phone out of the pocket of his leather jacket and hands it to her. "It will be easier to contact you to work on our project if I don't have to go through your dad every time we talk. Okay?" His voice is steady, his tone serious, and Elizabeth takes the phone, careful not to accidentally brush her fingertips against his skin. She saves her number and hands it back.

"Okay. Call me."

His serious face is immediately replaced by a devilish grin as he takes her statement for something much more forward. "Trust me, I will."

Her face hot now, she quickly opens her mouth to respond, but he's already taken off down the hall.

* * *

The rest of the day passes in a blur for Elizabeth, who inwardly is still reeling from her first period class. She had been so sure, upon first meeting Meliodas, that he is older than she, even if he is several inches shorter and has such a youthful face, and that he had clarified to her father that he, and not his own father, owns the new tavern in town. He never told her just how old she was, but…assuming everything else to be true, _what_ is he doing in a high school history class?

She is even quieter, more contemplative, than usual, though if Diane and Elaine notice, they do not comment. Arthur, on the other hand, asks her whether she's feeling okay, while she silently, absentmindedly stirs her milkshake during their off-campus lunch.

"What?" She glances up into his concerned violet gaze. "Oh. I'm sorry, Arthur. I'm fine."

"Elizabeth, you know you can talk to me, right?" He reaches across the table and takes her hand in earnest.

She nods, composes herself, finishes her milkshake, and flips her long silver hair over her shoulder. "I know. Come on, I'm done, and if we don't go now we'll be late."

* * *

As soon as Arthur has dropped her off at home after school, Elizabeth runs upstairs to her bedroom. She drops her bag on a decorative chair and leaps onto her bed, sighing into the luxurious linens that envelop her.

This period of rest will be short-lived, however; not two minutes later, Veronica yells up the stairs: "Ellie! Company!" Groaning, Elizabeth drags herself up and finger-combs her hair before plodding back down the stairs.

She stops short halfway down, her hand clutching the polished wood banister. Meliodas smiles up at her. "Yo, Elizabeth."

 _Act natural, Elizabeth._ The last thing she needs is to give Veronica, who is watching from the doorway into the kitchen, any reason to suspect…anything. Not that there is anything _to_ suspect. Is there?

"M-Meliodas, what are you doing here? I thought you were going to call me to get together about working on our project." Slowly she descends the last few steps, gripping the banister hard enough to turn her knuckles white. She sees Veronica in her peripheral vision; her violet-haired sister quirks an eyebrow, but thankfully vanishes into the kitchen without a word.

At the bottom of the stairs, Meliodas puts his hands in his pockets and smiles sheepishly up at Elizabeth through a hood of messy blond hair, and long eyelashes. "I just thought maybe we could start on it right away, since it's so important to you, and all. We can go to the library, do some research."

She blinks, unable to comprehend this short yet intimidating blond, in ripped jeans and a leather jacket, spending time in an establishment where books, silence, and knowledge are sacrosanct. "O-okay…?" Inwardly, she cringes at how it comes out like a question.

"Okay." He opens the front door and steps back to allow her through first.

Elizabeth stops short on the front porch. "No. Oh, no."

"What?" Meliodas breezes past and easily straddles the motorcycle parked in the mansion's circular driveway. He leans on the handlebars and smirks at her. "Scared?"

She crosses her arms over her chest, setting her gaze. "No."

"Then prove it." He tosses her a helmet. "Hop on."

 _Is_ she scared? She sidles up to it, thoughtfully, and rubs a finger along the tiny scale pattern of the emerald paint—the same green as Meliodas' eyes—noting how the bike is subtly designed to resemble a dragon. A powerful dragon.

"Well?"

She glances up and notices that he's watching her through half-lidded eyes. Hesitantly, she places a hand on his shoulder and swings a leg over the back of the bike, and cautiously balances herself behind him on the seat, and—

"You're going to have to hang on to me, Elizabeth."

 _Nononononono!_

"Like this." He takes each of her hands, gently, and pulls them around to his front, pressing her hands together, so that she is pressed flush against his back, hugging his waist. "There."

Her face burns at this new closeness, but as soon as he kick-starts the bike and the dragon lurches forward with a roar, she yelps and instinctively tightens her grip on him, squeezing her eyes shut, and loathing his gleeful laughter.


	4. The Wrath of Elizabeth

**– 4 –**

 **The Wrath of Elizabeth**

"You can let go now, Elizabeth."

Cautiously, Elizabeth opens her right eye, gratified to see a safe, concealing curtain of silver bangs behind which she can hide. Yes, hiding is good.

"We're not moving."

 _Huh? …Oh._ She opens her other eye and glances around; as soon as she realizes he is right, the bike is parked next to a curb, and she is still holding on for dear life, she slowly relaxes her grip around his torso and shakily climbs off, fighting the urge to fall to her knees and worship the solid sidewalk.

"So? How was it? Too much for your first time?" He raises a suggestive eyebrow, and she lets out a tiny squeak as she blushes.

Elizabeth spins around to face the building in front of her, fully prepared to march huffily up the library steps and into the quiet, where Meliodas will have to keep his comments to himself, only to find that…it's not the library? She turns back toward him, her brows knit in confusion. "What are we doing here?"

"I was hungry." He shoves both hands into his pockets coolly and saunters toward the door of the local burger joint. She stares after him, dumbfounded, until he holds the door open and gestures for her to go inside. "You coming?"

It's all she can do to get a grip on her slackened jaw and walk in; Meliodas follows with another smirk, appreciating the view, and lets the door swing closed behind them.

The waitress seats them in a corner booth at the back of the restaurant, well away from the blinding glare of the windows along the front, and Elizabeth is grateful for the seclusion because it minimizes the chance that they will be seen by anybody she knows, and suddenly the horror jolts through her that this _looks exactly like a date_.

"This is _not_ a date." She glares at Meliodas as she slides into the seat across from him.

He gives her an odd look. "Never said it was. Just getting a bite to eat."

The waitress scribbles down Meliodas' order—one burger with everything, side of fries, and a cherry soda over chocolate ice cream—and Meliodas tries not to gawk as Elizabeth orders the same thing. As the waitress swishes away in her apron and little skirt, Elizabeth looks back at him and raises an eyebrow: "What?"

"You can eat a lot?"

She rolls her blue eyes in exasperation, but underneath the lamp suspended over their table, he notes the light blush that spreads across her cheeks. "Well, you're making me miss dinner tonight, so I'm going to have to eat _something_."

The next few minutes pass in a somewhat awkward silence; neither seems to know what to say to the other. Finally, Meliodas speaks up. "So. You and Arthur."

 _What?_ She tries not to gape, but blinks, bewildered, before quickly reigning in her surprise. "What about me and Arthur?"

He shrugs. "Dunno. How was your birthday?"

"It was good…" The way this conversation—if you can call it that—is heading doesn't seem to make much sense, but, okay… "He bought me flowers, and we went out for dinner, and that's about it."

"Really? That's it? No birthday sex?" His green eyes darken mischievously, and Elizabeth's face burns.

"No! _Arthur_ is a gentleman." _Unlike you_ , she'd like to add.

"What, and I'm not?" Meliodas leans over the table, toward her, and her breath hitches as his eyes lock onto hers in an intense gaze.

She clenches her fists beneath the table and forces herself to look away. "That remains to be seen."

He leans back, smirking. "Sure. While you're having dinner with me, and not him. By the way, doesn't the library close in five minutes?"

Elizabeth widens her eyes and searches desperately for a clock in the restaurant. He's right. It does, and he probably knew that the whole time. "You…you—"

Fortunately, the waitress arrives at that moment, bearing a tray of their food, and Meliodas is saved from the wrath of Elizabeth, as she carefully pours her frustration into devouring the burger placed in front of her.

* * *

The food brought with it a more relaxed atmosphere, and as Elizabeth and Meliodas chewed their way through burgers and fries, conversation finally began to flow more freely. Elizabeth, at Meliodas' request, told him about her father and her sisters, though when she did not respond when he asked about her mother, he took the opportunity to describe the antics he and his two brothers used to get up to, before he moved away and opened the tavern.

No more mention of Arthur was made, and neither were any references made by Meliodas to any possible exes. The waitress brings their ticket, and Meliodas acquiesces to Elizabeth's insistence that she pay for her own meal. By the time they exit the restaurant, dusk has fallen, bringing with it an unprecedented icy wind, and Meliodas shrugs off his leather jacket and drapes it over Elizabeth's shoulders while she isn't paying attention.

She looks up at him in surprise.

He gives her a softer smile than his usual smirk. "It's cold. You don't have a coat."

"…Thank you."

He slings a leg over the seat of his back, and once he is settled, she again uses his shoulder to balance as she climbs on, and this time doesn't hesitate as long before wrapping her arms around his waist. The ride back to her house is short, and only when he cuts the engine in the driveway does she remember…

"We never even talked about our project!"

"Okay." He grins. "Talk."

She stares at him in disbelief. "Meliodas! I told you how important this was to me, and you promised we would start on it today! You're unbelievable!"

He pouts. "Oh, so because I took you out to dinner and cared whether or not you catch a cold in this weather, I'm unbelievable?"

"I paid for my own dinner!"

"Because you insisted!"

"Ugh!" She takes off the helmet he forced on her, and shoves it into his arms, and then yanks his jacket from around her and thrusts it at him, too. "I will see you in class tomorrow, and _damn_ it you had better have thought about this project, because _we_ are going to spend lunch in the library. _Working._ "

She stalks up the stone steps and through the mansion's front door, seething. A moment of silence passes as he looks at the place where she had just been, before he puts his jacket back on, starts the motorcycle a final time for the night, and drives away.

* * *

 **A/N: So, I'm really enjoying writing this story, and I hope you guys are enjoying reading it just as much! I'm not 100% sure how I want things to play out, I don't have an exact storyline in mind, but I'm trying to not rush it but also not draw it out too much! So if that happens, please let me know. Suggestions are welcome, too. :) It is my story, but it's for each of you, too. *hearts***


	5. I Love You, You Know?

**– 5 –**

 **I Love You, You Know?**

Midnight finds Elizabeth awake in her room, with the door closed and the curtains drawn, and the lamp beside her bed bathing the room in a soft, warm, golden glow. The house is very quiet, with her father somewhere downstairs, and her sisters probably in their bedrooms, and Elizabeth is dressed for bed, in a fluffy robe over a short satin nightgown. Cross-legged on the window seat, she stares blankly at the open diary in her lap, torn between her desire to forget entirely the events of the day, and an overwhelming urge to pen every word. A very confusing place to be.

Her cell phone vibrates on the cushion next to her foot, and she reaches for it automatically but snatches her hand back as soon as she sees Arthur's name and face on the screen. She dithers. Yes? No? Yesnoyesnoyes—

She hits ACCEPT and brings the phone to her ear in one swift, breathless motion. "Hello?"

"Elizabeth, it's me! I just wanted to call and check in on you after today." Arthur's sweet, cheerful voice twists her stomach into a knot. "You seemed distracted today, and I wanted to make sure you're okay."

"Yeah, no, I'm fine," she answers automatically, and takes a deep breath. _I'm not hiding anything. I didn't_ do _anything. I have no reason to feel guilty._

Feeling a little better, she tells him she was busy after school—technically not a lie—and never had the chance to call him. "How was your afternoon? Do you have a lot of homework for the first day back?"

"Probably not as much as you do!" he laughs. "I heard about the project Mr. Z assigned today. Pretty big, huh?"

She stills. "Oh. Yeah."

"Did you at least get to pick partners? King said he picked Ban, though I can't imagine why, unless Elaine pressured him into playing nice, you know? Can't wait to see how that plays out."

"Well, not exactly…" And she lets the truth tumble out. "Remember that guy my dad introduced us to, Meliodas? Apparently he goes to school with us and he's in my class, so Mr. Zaratras asked that I work with him, since he had to sit next to me since that was the only open desk in the room, and share my book because he doesn't have one yet, and Mr. Zaratras suggested that we pair up because he's new and probably doesn't know anyone else. And you know how important this project is for my grade, right, so he and I are going to have to spend lunch tomorrow in the library to work on it because we don't have a topic or anything yet…"

Arthur is quiet, and she nervously nibbles on her bottom lip as she waits for the response he is no doubt carefully considering. "Well. Are you okay with that, Ellie? Does he make you uncomfortable? Because you know if he does, Mr. Z will probably let you change partners."

She stutters out a rather unconvincing, "N-n-no."

"…I'm not sure how I feel about him, Elizabeth. He might be an all-right guy, but we don't really know him. But I trust you, and I just want to make sure you're okay. Do you want me to come to the library with you tomorrow?"

She sighs. "No, Arthur, that's okay. It's only an hour lunch period, and we're going to be working, anyway, so, you know. It's gonna be fine. _I'm_ gonna be fine."

"Okay, Ellie. But you let me know if he makes you uncomfortable, okay? If he says anything, or tries anything. I bet between Diane, Ban, King, and me, we could straighten him out." He chuckles at this last bit, but she knows it's a very real threat, and she always appreciates this protective side to him and all of her best friends.

"I know, Arthur, I will. Thanks."

He hesitates. "I…I love you, Ellie, you know?"

Her heart stops. "W-what?"

"I—I mean, it's not how I wanted to say it, you know? Gee, it kind of just slipped out… But…But I love you, Elizabeth. I really do." He pauses. She fights to breathe. "I guess I kind of caught you off guard, Ellie. I didn't mean to do that."

"Y-yeah, you… You certainly did…"

"Well…"

"I…I'm glad?" She closes her eyes, knowing how uncertain that sounded, but for the moment she's relieved to hear his own sigh of relief on the other end, and she can just picture the smile on his lips.

"Get some rest, okay, Ellie? I'll pick you up in the morning."

"Okay…goodnight, Arthur."

"Goodnight, El." There's a soft click, and he's gone.

Elizabeth tosses her phone onto a throw pillow, and looks again at the diary in her lap. _I love you, Ellie._ Sighing, cringing, she closes the book and tucks it away among her others, and takes her phone to bed with her, and turns out the lamp. She's just about to drift off when her phone chimes quietly.

 **Meliodas**

Hey, Elizabeth. Sorry about this afternoon.

Somehow, this informal text message apology feels genuine, so she smiles as she types a reply.

 **Elizabeth**

It's okay.

He replies instantly:

 **Meliodas**

Still on for the library lunch tomorrow?

 **Elizabeth**

Yes. Thanks.

 **Meliodas**

Sure. See U in class.

 **Elizabeth**

& thanks for your jacket… & burgers & my first motorcycle ride. Was kind of fun.

 **Meliodas**

For U, any time. ;)

She blushes— _I love you, Ellie_ —and quickly hides the phone under a pillow. When no more chimes sound, she rolls over to fall slowly into a restless and fitful sleep.

* * *

Lying in his own bed, kept awake by the bright shafts of moonlight streaming in through the window— _I really need to get some damn curtains!_ —Meliodas stares at his own phone and the last text he sent Elizabeth. _Did I scare her off?_

He tosses over, and frowns at his concern. _When has that ever mattered? It's not like you're head over heels for this girl. Chill out, bro!_

He laughs silently, mirthlessly, at himself, and wonders what his brothers would have to say about such a situation if they knew. He probably wouldn't even get past the part about him enrolling in high school before one of them would try to punch some common sense into him, and the other would make a derisive comment about him preying on high school girls… _But it's_ not _like that._

She was so surprised to see him in her house this afternoon, and so cute when she got angry that he took her to a restaurant instead of the library like he'd promised. But then, over burgers, she even opened up a little about herself and her family. _Maybe there's hope._

The sparkle in her blue eyes when she laughed at his stories over their french fries and ice cream, and that sparkle crackling into fire as she yelled at him later. How she was less hesitant to hold onto him for the ride home. The way when she handed his jacket back, the scent of her hair and perfume clung to it, and that scent intoxicated him so much on his ride back to the tavern and his apartment that he had to pull over, twice.

 _Elizabeth._ At least now, with their shared class, he had a valid excuse to see her, Monday through Friday. Never mind that he had graduated high school already a few years before; he looked young enough that nobody suspected, and would it really be so bad if the truth came out? Consider it a form of…higher education.

Besides. _Is she not worth the risk?_

He closes his eyes, and before he finally falls asleep, he thinks up a hundred different possible topics for the history project that means so much to her.

* * *

"Aldan…Dreyfus…Elizabeth…Herritt…"

As Mr. Zaratras takes attendance in class the next morning, Elizabeth taps a pen impatiently against a blank page in her notebook, trying and failing to come up with the perfect topic for the history project. _I love you, Ell—no, don't go there—_

"Meliodas…Meliodas…"

Her head snaps up, and she catches Mr. Zaratras glancing around the room, frowning. "Meliodas…absent…" He makes a mark in the attendance book on his desk, and resumes going down the list of names.

Elizabeth sighs and rolls her eyes in exasperation, tossing her bangs. _Maybe I was stupid to trust him._

No sooner has she finished this thought than she feels guilt and relief in succession; the door bangs open and Meliodas slides through and slouches into his seat. "Sorry, Mr. Z."

Mr. Zaratras caps his pen and stands up from his desk. "Late two days in a row. Best not to let it happen again, Meliodas."

"Yes, sir."

As Mr. Zaratras begins the lecture, Elizabeth scribbles notes across the page, having given up trying to come up with ideas, while from the corner of her eye she notices Meliodas watching her intently. After several moments of trying to ignore him, she slams her pen down and hisses in his direction, "What!?"

He is taken aback by her frustration, but retains his composure. "Can I borrow a pen?"

She rolls her eyes and hands over hers.

As soon as the bell rings, forty-five minutes later, Elizabeth tosses everything into her backpack, and Meliodas drops the borrowed pen into his pocket.

"I never said you could keep that."

"Gonna need something to write with in the library, so this should save me bothering you for it again." He shoves his hands into his pockets and follows her out the classroom door, whistling nonchalantly.

She glances toward the end of the hall, but there is no sign of Arthur or their friends, so she lingers with Meliodas a moment longer. "Yeah, so, the library at lunch. Don't be late, okay?"

"What, you're not going to say it? 'Like you were this morning'?" He mimics her voice, and she sets her jaw.

"Maybe I thought it. But you said it, not me." She spins on her toe and quickly walks away, leaving the crowd of students to blend into the space between both of them.

* * *

At the beginning of their lunch period, Elizabeth runs into Meliodas outside the double doors to the school library.

"Oomf!" Ungracefully, she catches herself before she ends up sprawled on the floor, but her bag flies off her shoulder, books and papers scattering in all directions. Meliodas turns toward her, taking in her flustered and disheveled appearance and the mess on the floor.

"Yo."

She narrows her eyes in exasperation. "Why are you just standing outside? Why not _go in_ , so people can't bump into you and almost get hurt?"

He quirks an eyebrow. "Why not watch where you're going?"

"I…" She has no answer for that.

"Here." He crouches down on the floor and quickly gathers up the things she's lost, and she stuffs them back into her bag.

"Thanks. So, again, why are you just standing outside the library?"

"I…uh…" Meliodas rubs the back of his neck, as though trying to maintain his cool demeanor. "See…I've never actually been… _inside_ a library…before."

Elizabeth gapes. "Oh my God, you…you're _scared_ , aren't you!?"

"No!"

"Nervous?"

"…Maybe…"

She laughs, and whether or not she is laughing with him or at him doesn't matter then, because the sound is like silver bells on Christmas Day. She smiles, takes his wrist, and places his hand on the handle of one of the doors. "Come on. I'll protect you."

It's his turn to roll his eyes, and he pulls the door open and follows her inside, to a vacant table in a secluded corner where they won't be interrupted as they work.

"So, I told you to think about project ideas." Elizabeth pulls out her history notebook and flips to a fresh page. "Any ideas?"

He leans back in his chair and scrunches up his face as though contemplating. "Yes. Actually, I did a lot of thinking about it last night."

"…And? What did you come up with?"

"I'll tell ya if you let me take you out again." He flashes a wicked smile.

Elizabeth's grip tightens on her pen. "…Let's just stick to the assignment. So, what did you come up with?"

"Had to try," he chuckles. "What I actually thought was that we could do a project that incorporates the mythology and lore surrounding Britannian history. Those stories about fairies, giants, demons, a Holy War, and all."

She nibbles on the inside of her cheek. "Well…"

Finally she nods her approval. "Yes, I think that sounds like a good idea. Mr. Zaratras isn't big on mythology, so it won't be a common topic, which will make our project more original just in comparison to everyone else's, and you know what he _is_ big on? Originality." Elizabeth gives Meliodas her first genuine smile since the day before, and his emerald eyes sparkle as he returns it. "Okay, let's get to work!"

* * *

Soon as the bell signals the end of the lunch period, Elizabeth gathers together a sheaf of papers and tucks them into a folder, pleased to note how much progress has been made on the project.

"We're further than I thought we would get…so I guess we don't have to work tomorrow at lunch, but maybe the next day…" She nibbles her bottom lip in thought. "The project is due…when? I know I have the guidelines here someplace…" She opens the folder and shuffles through the pages, quickly undoing the organizing she had just completed. Meliodas just watches, one eyebrow raised.

"Okay, so it says here that we have eight weeks to complete it and it's kind of amazing that we did as much work as we did in this one hour, so yes, tomorrow we can just have lunch like usual, but let's meet after school instead and divide up the rest of the work that we could then do on our own…" She trails off when she realizes he is not responding at all, and her eyes flick in his direction, where he holds the same relaxed, amused expression. She flushes.

One corner of his mouth quirks up and his eyes darken mischievously. "We can have lunch tomorrow, huh?"

"Uh…" She stuffs the papers back in the folder and the folder into her bag to avoid answering, grateful for the curtain of long silvery hair that falls over her shoulder and hides the deepening blush on her cheeks.

"Kidding." _He sounds…almost…disappointed…?_

"Uh, o-okay—well, uh…"

"It's cool, Elizabeth."

"You can sit with me and my friends if you want," the words tumble past her lips before she can stop to think about them.

He looks impassively at her for a moment, and she stumbles on to fill the silence.

"I mean, you don't have to, but I'm sure they wouldn't mind—Diane and King and Ban and Elaine, they're all really cool, and-and Arthur—" _I love you, Ellie—damn it!—_ "…and, I mean, I wouldn't…uh…yeah," she finishes lamely.

He continues to stare.

"I…um…" _?_

"Okay."

"W-what?" _!_

"Ohhh-kayyy," he draws the word out, exaggeratedly, as if to make fun of her, and she flushes, first in embarrassment and then in irritation.

"Okay. Great. I'll see you tomorrow." She throws her bag over her shoulder and flounces off.


	6. In Vino Veritas

**– 6 –**

 **In Vino Veritas**

"I couldn't wait that long." He smiles mischievously, charmingly, at Elizabeth when she opens the mansion door that evening to find him on the steps, hands shoved in his pockets.

 _Ask what he's doing here! Shut the door in his face. Say something, do something, damn it, don't just stand there and stare at him like an idiot!_ But…

"Yo, Elizabeth. You in there, or what?" He cocks his head to the side, letting blond bangs fall into gorgeous green eyes, and gently taps her forehead with a finger. The touch sends a jolt down her spine, and she snaps out of her dumbfounded daze.

"I'd love to ask you what you're doing here, but…" She shakes her head violently. "Whatever; just come on in."

"Elizabeth! Who is at the door?" Her father's voice booms down the hallway, echoing off the creamy painted walls and the dark wood floor. Footsteps resound, and Elizabeth quickly glances at Meliodas in a panic.

He eases a smooth smile across his lips, and steps through the foyer to meet Bartra in another doorway. "Yo, Bartra."

"Meliodas!" Bartra shakes hands with one of his best customers, and quickly ushers him further into the house, Elizabeth trailing behind, nervously twisting the opal ring on her fourth finger.

The two men exchange their pleasantries and talk of business and wine; Bartra escorts Meliodas into the family room and offers him a drink. He accepts, and when Bartra disappears, Elizabeth turns on him. "'Kay, I'm gonna ask. What are you doing here?"

"I told you, I couldn't wait until tomorrow." He offers a lopsided grin.

"My father has no idea that we work together on an assignment. This already feels awkward enough for me, so try not to make it worse!" She hisses as Bartra reenters, carrying a glass of red wine in each hand.

"Try this, Meliodas, it's one of my newest." They both takes seats in the cushy leather chairs, and Elizabeth perches uncomfortably on a large ottoman, listening to the flowing conversation and feeling very much out of place in her own home. _Where are my sisters? Why isn't Margaret making noises in the kitchen, or Veronica in here being nosy? WHY DON'T THEY COME SAVE ME!_

"Ellie, Arthur's here!" Veronica, as if on cue.

… _Shit._ Elizabeth shifts on the ottoman, as she hears the front door open and close, Veronica and Arthur conversing in the foyer, and footsteps. Bartra and Meliodas continue to talk and sip their wine nonchalantly.

"Elizabeth!" The first thing Arthur sees when he steps into the room, and he gives her a huge, sweet smile, that she wobbly returns. Her blue eyes dart toward Bartra and Meliodas, and she curses silently, but oh, what was the point, he would have seen them in a moment, anyway. Arthur follows her nervous gaze, and knits his eyebrows together as he takes in the scene, but ultimately puts on a good front and strides toward Bartra with his hand outstretched. "Bartra!"

"Arthur, my boy!" Elizabeth's father stands and pulls Arthur into a manly bear hug. "Good to see you, good to see you!" He draws back. "You remember Meliodas, of course! Would you like a drink, Arthur?"

"No thank you, I'm fine."

"Have a drink, my boy! I have this lovely new wine I'd like for you to try, and if you like it perhaps a good word with your father…when will I see him again? Must get together, perhaps a dinner…" Bartra bustles out of the room, muttering to himself, and the three young people look at each other: Arthur suspiciously, Meliodas coolly, and Elizabeth apprehensively.

"So." Arthur is the first to break the silence. "How's the project?"

"It's good," Meliodas answers, surprising Elizabeth. He finishes his drink and puts the glass down on a side table. "We got a lot of work done at lunch today."

"Good."

Elizabeth twists her ring.

"You don't seem like you're here to work on the project anymore, I guess."

"I decided to pay Bartra a friendly visit. Since we do business together, and all."

"If you're a kid in high school, how do you have any business to do with Elizabeth's father? Do you really own a tavern, or does your father own it? Or are you just trying to make some sort of trouble?"

Elizabeth's eyes dart back and forth between the two young men, now locked in a stare-down that doesn't _look_ completely confrontational, but she can feel the tension heavy in the air.

"No, I really own a tavern." Meliodas' tone is light, as nonchalant as his expression. Arthur is quiet, but eventually breaks into an accommodating smile.

"Okay."

 _O-kay…?_ Elizabeth nibbles her lip and starts sliding the ring back and forth on her finger.

Footsteps sound on the wood floor in the hall, and Elizabeth slowly breathes out as her father steps back into the room and hands Arthur his own glass. He glances to Meliodas' empty glass on the table: "A refill?"

"No, thanks, Bartra, I should actually be going." Meliodas eases himself up and squares his shoulders. Bartra grips his hand in a firm shake.

"Don't be a stranger, Meliodas! I look forward to doing more business with you."

"Same here." He flashes a smile, and glances toward Elizabeth.

"I'll…walk you out." She steps ahead of him out of the room, leaving her boyfriend and father to engage in easy conversation.

"So." Outside on the stone steps, Meliodas cocks an eyebrow and tilts his head, looking at Elizabeth expectantly, his face a picture of boyish charm.

"…So." She rocks back and forth on her heels, uncomfortable. "Why did you come here? Did you know he was going to come, too?"

"No way I could have known that, and from the look on your face when he walked in, you didn't know, either."

She sighs, unable to argue. "Maybe I should apologize for Arthur's behavior. Or thank you for… I don't know, staying cool, I guess."

"Don't think Bartra would have liked a fight to break out in his multimillion-dollar mansion. You know, spill some red wine on the white carpet, that kind of thing."

Elizabeth giggles at the sudden, comical image of her father, red in the face, as red as his red wine. "You're right."

"Well, I'd better get going. Let you get back inside before they start to worry I've kidnapped you or something."

She blushes at the very idea. "They probably wouldn't even notice, so busy talking about business and wine!"

He grins, and slings a leg over his bike.

"Meliodas!"

He pauses. "Yeah?"

"Why couldn't you wait until tomorrow?"

His grin widens, and his green eyes sparkle. "Later, Elizabeth."

Then she is very certain she knows the answer, and her blush deepens, and she does not know what to feel as he revs the motorcycle's engine and the dragon roars away.

* * *

"Elizabeth!" Veronica bursts through her sister's door without knocking later that evening, not long after Arthur's departure. Margaret follows, deftly balancing three mugs of hot cocoa on a silver serving tray.

"Sisters? What's going on?" Elizabeth closes the book she was reading— _The Goddess and the Demon: Great Myths of Britannia_ —and moves over in her bed to make room for her sisters to sit.

"We haven't had any sister time in a while, and thought you might like some cocoa." Margaret gives her youngest sister a delicate, textured white mug, and Elizabeth inhales the sweet and spicy aroma of chocolate, cinnamon, nutmeg, and vanilla. A gooey layer of marshmallows floats on top of the cocoa, just how she prefers. _Just like Mom used to make._

"So!" Veronica bounces on the bed, nearly spilling her cup, rambunctious as always. "Spill!"

Elizabeth sips her cocoa, welcoming the distraction of the burn on her tongue. She peers at Veronica over the rim of her cup, and when Veronica's gaze doesn't let up, she blows out a breath. "Spill what?"

"You and Arthur and Meliodas! There was _definitely_ something going on today."

Elizabeth was hoping her sisters hadn't picked up on that…

"N-nothing is going on, Veronica. I don't know what you're talking about." Her blue eyes stay fixed on her mug of cocoa, and she hopes her face isn't reddening, but lets silver hair swing forward over her shoulders just in case.

"Ellie," Veronica presses, "we're not _blind_."

"Veronica," Margaret chides gently, "we're not going to force the poor girl to talk if she's not ready."

Elizabeth shoots her eldest sister a grateful look.

Veronica rolls her eyes, frowning, and then mischief quickly brightens her brown eyes. " _I_ have an idea…" She reaches into the pocket of her favorite pink house coat and pulls out a shiny, silver…flask.

Margaret widens her eyes. "Veronica, where did you get that?"

"From Father's office!" Veronica gleefully unscrews the cap and snatches Elizabeth's mug from her hands, and spills some of the rich amber liquid into the cocoa. Immediately the nutty, vanilla, spicy aroma of Bartra's special-occasion brandy swirls into the air, and Elizabeth takes her mug back with shaky hands. She is not a drinking girl, and there is nothing stronger in the house than this stuff. Drinking it in front of her sisters—especially with Veronica already demanding information—Elizabeth is nervous about the effect it might have.

Veronica adds a small amount to Margaret's cup, ignoring her older sister's obvious disapproval, and then dumps the rest into her mug, and licks the rim of the flask clean before screwing the cap on and putting it back into her pocket. "Okay, girls, a toast!"

They clink mugs, and drink.

As soon as the alcohol rushes into her body, the potent effects rush her head, and Elizabeth closes her eyes, trying to adjust to the feeling of losing her senses. Another sip and she immediately feels relaxed, at ease, and her hands steady, but a third sip sends her mind into a slow spin.

"So, Ellie," Veronica begins, and her voice sounds very far away. "Tell us about you and the boys."

Elizabeth is too lost now to see Margaret glare at Veronica.

"I…" Elizabeth hiccups, and immediately breaks into a fit of giggles.

"Look what you've done now!" Margaret hisses.

"I… Mel…Meli…" Elizabeth suppresses her laughter just long enough to draw out the name, " _Mel-lee-oh-das_ …"

Both Veronica and Margaret fix their wide eyes on their sister.

"Mmm…" Elizabeth takes another drink, and Margaret quickly takes the cup from her hands and sets it on the night table before Elizabeth, in her inebriated state, can accidentally spill it over the fine bedclothes. Or drink any more.

"What about Meliodas, Ellie?" Veronica leans forward. "What about Arthur?"

At the mention of Arthur's name, Elizabeth frowns. "Ar…thur?"

"Yes, Arthur, your _boyfriend_?"

"I… Um…" Elizabeth twists the ring on her finger nervously, and her sisters recognize it as the same distressed gesture from earlier in the day. "Arthur…"

"Ellie, you don't have to tell us anything that you don't want to," Margaret tries to remind her, while glaring at Veronica not to argue.

"I… _want_ …to—" Elizabeth slurs as her head spins faster—

"Good, tell, tell!" Veronica cheers—

"—date…Mel-lee-oh-das. And…and _Ar-thur_ …said…'I—love you—Ellie'—" Suddenly, the room ceases spinning, and the sudden shift causes Elizabeth to fall off the bed and vomit on the plush white carpet.

Veronica looks at the top of her sister's silver head, stunned into silence by both admissions. Margaret sighs and climbs off the bed, shoving the tray of mugs into Veronica's arms, and the younger plods dumbly from the room as the older tends to Elizabeth.


	7. The Morning After

**– 7 –**

 **The Morning After**

Margaret and Veronica exchange a knowing look when Bartra asks why Elizabeth doesn't come down for breakfast the next morning.

"I don't think she's feeling well, Father," Veronica quickly covers. "She threw up last night."

"Oh." He sips his coffee thoughtfully. "Well, I hope she's feeling better by tomorrow night. Uther and I will have dinner at Le Mitron—a bit of business—and Arthur will be there, as well. I expect Elizabeth to join us."

Another knowing look, this one more worried. Bartra does not notice.

"I—I'm not sure if she'll be feeling up to it, Father," Margaret says quietly.

"Nonsense! She'll take today to recuperate, and I'm sure she wouldn't miss it for the world." He polishes off the last of his breakfast and rises from the table. "I have some business calls to return in my office this morning, girls. Elizabeth may stay home from school if she's not well, but please let her know not to disturb me."

Veronica opens her mouth, just as his gaze turns to her— "No, Veronica, you may _not_ miss school, even to look after your sister."

"Veronica, why don't _you_ check on Elizabeth before we go." Margaret rises, too, and, quickly collecting the breakfast dishes, carries them into the kitchen.

* * *

"Sorry, Ellie," Veronica whispers, softly stroking her sister's messy bangs. Elizabeth groggily opens one eye, and winces.

"Veri… My head hurts…"

Veronica smothers a smile. "It's my fault, Ellie. I shouldn't have snuck Father's brandy."

"What…what happened last night…?" Elizabeth struggles to sit up, and Veronica gently pushes her back down.

"Don't push yourself, Ellie. It was quite an evening for you." She smiles now, lopsidedly, mischievously. "You…told us that Arthur said he loves you."

Elizabeth closes her eyes, visibly cringing.

"And…you told us that you want to date Meliodas."

" _Oh_ …" Elizabeth wriggles back down into bed and tugs the covers over her head. " _No_ …"

Veronica pulls them away. " _Yes_. Ellie, is that true? Do you like Meliodas?"

"I… I mean… He _is_ cute, and we work together on a project for our history class, and he's been really sweet…and Arthur seems skeptical, I guess, but I feel _safe_ around him, too…"

"I take it you didn't tell Arthur you love him, too, right?"

"Not…yet."

"Ellie." Veronica knits her brows together as her face becomes very serious, and she perches on the edge of the bed. "You have to be honest with yourself, and then with each of them. If you don't love Arthur, you can't tell him you do. It's not right."

"Veronica, I don't know what to do!" Elizabeth wails.

"You'd better figure that out before tomorrow night, Ellie. Father says he has a business dinner with Arthur's father, and Arthur will be there, so he expects you to be, too."

"Oh, _great_." Elizabeth blows her bangs off her forehead.

"He said you can stay home from school today, because we said you're not feeling well. Also not to disturb him in his office. Look, why don't you take today to sort everything out? You don't have to decide anything now, but you need to at least figure out how to handle yourself at dinner tomorrow night, right?"

Elizabeth nods.

"Get some more rest, Ellie, and when you feel like getting up, take a shower, and have some aspirin and orange juice. You're gonna need it."

* * *

Veronica was right, Elizabeth realizes as soon as she swings herself out of bed, and the sudden rush of blood to her head makes her woozy and nauseous. Carefully she descends the stairs one step at a time, one hand gripping the railing, and in the kitchen she chases three aspirin with a full glass of fresh, sweet orange juice that tastes like sunshine on her tongue.

Down the hall from the kitchen, next to a modest library, the thick mahogany door to her father's office is closed and locked. Undoubtedly he is returning phone calls or emails this morning related to his wine business, or—hopefully not—finalizing elaborate plans for this dinner tomorrow night. The very thought twists her stomach into knots.

Upstairs, Elizabeth locks herself into the large hall bathroom she shares with her three sisters, and fills the garden tub to brimming with scalding water. She dumps in a generous amount of bubble bath scented with lavender and vanilla and then steps carefully into the tub, sinking into the bubbles that envelop her in a warm, comforting hug. _Ah…_

Silence. Glorious, sweetly perfumed silence, for more than an hour, until the water cools, and Elizabeth massages the bubbles into her long hair. Meanwhile…eyes closed, her mind wanders, and she contemplates which boy it settles on first.

 _Arthur._ Arthur, with his sweet smile, warm violet gaze, and gentlemanly disposition. The "perfect Pendragon pedigree," as her sisters like to refer to it. Father's approval, and Mother's approval, as well, which means so much to Elizabeth.

 _But._

And there it is again—that singular, confusing, monosyllabic problem, that morphs into a cocky, quadrisyllabic problem with green eyes deep enough to drown in.

"Oh, Elizabeth, what are you going to do?" she moans to herself, sliding completely beneath the surface of the water and forcefully blowing bubbles out of her nose in frustration.

 _Time to get out of the bath._

She wraps herself in a thick, plush, ruffled robe, and towel-dries her hair. Then, prolonging her self-indulgence, she perches on the velvet chaise beneath the frosted window, and slowly, deliberately, moisturizes her fair skin. Once finished, she trades the robe for a clean pair of panties and comfy romper, combs her hair into a high ponytail, and curls up on the window seat in her room with her diary and a pen.

She has a lot to work through.

* * *

By the time her sisters arrive home, Elizabeth has penned more than a dozen pages in her diary, and when she finally closes the book and looks around the room, it feels just like coming up for air, and she can't believe how quickly the time has passed, even as she hears her sisters pounding up the staircase and down the hall, straight for her bedroom door.

"Ellie!" Veronica bursts through in her customary fashion, while Margaret follows, less in a state of excitement.

"How are you feeling, Elizabeth?" The eldest smiles warmly, her light brown eyes glimmering with love and concern.

Elizabeth sucks in a deep breath. _This is it._ "I have to break up with Arthur."

Margaret says nothing, though she knits her brows together, while Veronica opens her mouth to say something and then closes it, clearly not sure of how to respond.

"Veronica, everything you said this morning was true. I have to be honest, and if I do want to be with somebody else, then I have to be fair. But I have to do it in a way that he won't suffer more than he has to, and in a way that Father's business with Mr. Pendragon will not suffer, either. So I can't do it until after the dinner tomorrow evening."

Margaret and Veronica exchange a look. Finally, Margaret nods. "If you truly believe that's best."

Elizabeth nods resolutely, even as tears glisten in her eyes.

"Oh, Ellie." Veronica wraps her arms around her sister's shoulders, drawing her close, and Margaret finishes the protective circle around Elizabeth.

* * *

 **A/N: I know, I know, this story is pretty predictable. Probably** _ **too**_ **predictable, but let's face it—it's fun. I** _ **did**_ **warn of a chance of fluff, did I not? That being said, I'm playing as I write—there's no outline, there's no set path that I want to take to reach the end, which…I'm not even sure exactly how I want the end to look. So…maybe it is predictable, but who knows? Maybe it will turn out to be pretty different. It'll be as much of a surprise to me as it is for you.**

 **Another huge thank you to everyone who has read, followed, favorited, and/or reviewed. The praise and encouragement is better than anything else you could give me. *hearts***


	8. There's A Lot You Don't Know About Me

**A/N: If the chapter numbers appear off-center to you, I apologize. They're off-center on my laptop screen for the published chapters, though not in the site document manager or anywhere else where I could edit, so, since I want to keep them, I have no idea how to fix it.**

* * *

– **8 –**

 **There's A Lot You Don't Know About Me**

Elizabeth returns to school the next day, and the day blurs by, even as she is more subdued. Diane and Elaine ask if she is okay, and let it be when she says she is. Arthur is attentive as ever, but he does not push for information, either, and Elizabeth is grateful when Ban and King drag him away for a round of boys' basketball at lunch time, and she has the distraction of Mr. Zaratras' history assignment to occupy the hour in the library.

Meliodas is already there when Elizabeth eventually walks in, materials spread out over what has become their usual table, and his blond head bent over the screen of a laptop computer. He looks up when she sits down, and grins widely. "Hey, Elizabeth."

"Hey." She doesn't smile back, but her eyes dart to his computer. "What are you working on?"

He turns the screen to face her, and she marvels over the detailed report in front of her. Beautifully laid out, with what appears to be a scanned, hand-drawn detail of the cover story from the very book she read recently, _The Goddess and the Demon_.

"Where did you get this?" she gasps, her eyes traveling over the two figures in the portrait, intertwined amidst a swirl of black and gold.

"I drew it." His green eyes dance with merry mirth. "What do you think?"

"Meliodas, it's—it's _exquisite_!" She pauses. "I had no idea you could draw…"

The huskiness of his voice makes her breath catch. "There's a lot you don't know about me, Elizabeth."

"I—"

"Elizabeth!" Arthur whisper-calls as he heads straight for their table.

"H-hey," she stutters, surprised. "I—I thought you were playing…basketball?"

Arthur laughs, raking a hand through his unruly orange hair. "Not much of a game when Ban is taller than me and King combined, right?" His eyes settle on Meliodas, passively watching the exchange, and he offers a handshake. "Meliodas, good to see you."

"You too."

"Ellie, let me walk you to class," Arthur offers sweetly. "Lunch is almost over, anyhow."

"Oh—okay…" She looks to Meliodas apologetically. "So, um, we'll meet again tomorrow?"

He shrugs nonchalantly. "Sure."

Elizabeth lets Arthur lead her away, and he begins to talk excitedly about the dinner tonight, all the way up the stairs and to the doorway of her next class.

"So, I guess I'll see you tonight at the restaurant, right, Ellie? Veronica caught me a little while ago and said that you wouldn't be needing a ride home, so…"

"Oh! Right, yes. See you tonight." She attempts a smile, and Arthur brushes a kiss against her cheek in farewell.

She slides into her desk with several minutes to spare, and checks her phone. There's one text:

 **Meliodas**

Drawing is for the report cover page, but want 2 get your approval on the summary I wrote. Library 2nite? No tricks this time, promise.

 **Elizabeth**

Can't. A dinner w/ Father. Sorry. Tomorrow at lunch?

 **Meliodas**

OK. See U.

* * *

"You look beautiful, sweetheart." Bartra kisses the top of Elizabeth's head as he escorts her up the steps of Le Mitron, the penthouse restaurant of one of the poshest skyscrapers in the city. "Surely Arthur will think so, too, eh?" He winks. Elizabeth blushes graciously, but swallows hard.

"Thank you, Father."

"Ah! There they are now!" Bartra strides across the lobby to greet Uther and Arthur Pendragon by the elevator bay, his polished loafers clicking purposefully on the black and white marble floor. Elizabeth trails just a few feet behind, her steps in nude pumps daintier and quieter. She joins Arthur, who gives her a kiss and circles an arm around her waist, guiding her to an open elevator ahead of their fathers.

Upstairs, the _maître d'_ dressed in a crisp tuxedo escorts the foursome to a table with a view of the city skyline, and pulls out Elizabeth's chair for her. She thanks him with a smile and settles in on the right side of her father, across from Arthur, who reaches across the tablecloth to capture her hand and intertwine their fingers.

"Feels like we were just here recently, doesn't it?" he teases, and she grins, her face illuminated by the candlelight.

"We were! But it's been a couple of weeks now, hasn't it?" She withdraws her hand and opens her menu. "I wonder if the filet is still as renowned as it was then."

"I suppose you won't want to split the… _car-ray d'agg-no ro-tee_ with me, then!" Arthur peruses his own menu. "What is that, anyway…?"

Elizabeth laughs. "It's pronounced _carré d'agneau rôti_ , Arthur. It's a rack of lamb."

"Sounds good, and impossible to say. Maybe you should order it for me!"

She just smiles and turns the menu page.

After a waitress brings drinks—glasses of water and goblets of wine for all, even the teens—business talk between Bartra and Uther turns to good-natured bantering, particularly about their children.

"Arthur, my boy!" Elizabeth is sure that Bartra would have slapped Arthur on the back if he had been close enough to, and she takes a sip of her wine. It's strong, not at all as good as what her father makes, and he has already finished half of his glass and is starting to turn pink in the cheeks. "Tell me how school is going! Plans for college? Or will you be going into the family business, either his or mine?" He winks.

Arthur toys with a small silver fork but quickly puts it down at a reproving glance from his father. "Well, sir…"

"I'd always hoped he would take over after me, Bartra," Uther cut in, "but I do think he would be just as suited to work with you, as well. He is a quick study, and very intelligent. Already he has proven himself during the summers he works in my office."

"Perhaps…" Bartra's jovial smile grows, "if we would be able to combine the family businesses…eh, Elizabeth? Arthur? What do you think about that?"

Elizabeth's mouth goes dry. "W-what?"

"It's a given, isn't it? The two of you have been together for so long! I know we originally thought, upon meeting, that perhaps Arthur and Margaret…"

"Father, nothing could tear her away from Gil." Elizabeth smiles for her sister's perfect match.

"How fortunate we are, then, for the match between you and Arthur, my dear!"

 _Oh._

"Yes, indeed!" Uther agrees wholeheartedly. "A perfect match! A wedding would be the logical next step, wouldn't it, Bartra, and then the families as well as the business would be joined, for the greater good of all, certainly…"

Arthur smiles apologetically at Elizabeth, who struggles to return it as the fathers go on…

"Certainly, and we can have the reception catered by Le Mitron…I'll provide the wine and drink, of course—"

"—and some of your _special-occasion brandy_ , Bartra—"

Elizabeth's stomach turns at the memory.

"Arthur, son, your late mother's engagement ring—she would have wanted Elizabeth to have it—"

"Elizabeth, perhaps your sisters can take you dress shopping—"

Elizabeth wraps her fingers around the stem of her wine glass and downs the entire thing in one gulp. None of the men notice, and, she stands up, and the room spins. "Excuse me, I don't feel very well."

"Elizabeth, are you all right?" Arthur appears concerned, and Bartra looks on as well.

"I—I just need some air, I'll just be a moment—" She grabs her handbag and flees from the dining room, in the direction of the ladies' room so that none will follow, nearly tripping over her heels in her haste to get away. She bypasses the door to the powder room and heads for the elevators, and stabs at the button until a pair of doors _dings_ open, and she rushes inside.

Thankful to have a few moments to herself, she pushes the emergency stop button, and the elevator glides to a halt just above the bottom floor of the skyscraper, and with shaking hands and teary eyes, she pulls her phone from her purse. Scrolling through the _M_ 's in her contact list, the phone slips from her hands, and her finger touches a name as she fumbles to catch it—

"Hello?" The calm voice on the other end is not Margaret's, and not at all the one she was trying to call.

"M-Meliodas?" She tries to take a shaky breath, to sound like everything is okay, but she chokes as the tears in her eyes slide down her cheeks. "I-I'm sorry, I was trying to call my s-s-sister—"

"Well, you got me." The smile she can hear in his voice makes her cry harder, and his breathing on the other end stills.

"Elizabeth? Are you okay?"

"Y-yes, I—" She sobs. "No. No, I'm not. I-I'm s-sorry, let me just call M-Mar—"

"Are you hurt, Elizabeth?"

"N-no, I'm not h-h-hurt, I'm at Le Mitron, downtown, and—and my father, and Arthur, and his father—and…"

"Stay there." For some reason, she finds the resolve in his voice soothing. "I'll be right there."

* * *

Snowflakes are swirling gently through the air when Elizabeth pushes through the revolving door of the skyscraper to find a dragon purring idly at the curb.

"Elizabeth!" Meliodas quickly shrugs off his jacket and wraps her up in it. "You're going to catch a cold dressed like that!"

"Meliodas…" She gazes at him, cerulean eyes swimming in unshed tears, and in the light from the building he sees the salty streaks her tears have left on her face. "I…I didn't… You didn't have to… I didn't know you'd—"

He cups his hand beneath her chin and gazes at her. "There's a lot you don't know about me, Elizabeth." He takes her by the hand. "Come on. Let's get you out of here."

She wraps her arms around his waist and leans her head on his shoulder, still crying, as the dragon carries them away.


	9. I'm Glad You're Alright, 'Cause…

**–** **9 –**

 **I'm Glad You're Alright, 'Cause That's What Really Matters To Me**

The ride out of town takes about forty minutes, even with Meliodas flying at incredible speeds down the highway, but to Elizabeth it feels very short, over very quickly, though the emotional toll of the evening has left her exhausted by the time he slows the bike and pulls it into a small garage at the back of a building Elizabeth has never seen before.

"Elizabeth? We're home."

"Home?" She raises her sleepy head, assesses her surroundings: "Not…home…"

He chuckles. "Not _your_ home, Elizabeth."

"Okay…" She yawns and attempts to climb off the back of the bike on her own, but the potent effects of the wine from dinner have fully settled in, and she stumbles in her shoes, lurching about on the pavement.

"Careful!" Meliodas grabs her waist to steady her, and she turns to look up at him…

"Meliodas…"

"Yes, Elizabeth?"

…and just as quickly twists in his grasp and vomits.

"That's not gonna be much fun to clean up," Meliodas muses, looking over the soiled motorcycle. "Come on, Elizabeth, let's get you inside."

The world lurches out from under her feet once again, then, and just as quickly rights itself as Meliodas scoops her up in his arms, bridal-style. Thoroughly spent now, Elizabeth lets her head loll against his shoulder as he carries her through a few doorways, up a few narrow sets of stairs, and finally sleep steals her away…

* * *

Silver beams of moonlight slant across a polished wood floor and creep across a bed covered with clean white sheets, upon which Elizabeth tosses and turns and finally opens her eyes. She sits up. "W-where am I…?"

"Mornin' Elizabeth!"

She squeals and gathers the blankets tightly around her form, even though she is wearing a green cocktail dress. Wait, why is she wearing a cocktail dress in bed? Why don't the blankets feel like satin against her skin…? This isn't her bed. THIS ISN'T HER BED! And _who_ just spoke to her!?

"Where am I? What am I doing here!?" She squints as a light is switched on and the room is flooded with a golden glow. "Meliodas?"

"Yo." He grins at her.

As her eyes adjust to the brightness, she slowly releases her death grip on the sheets and glances around the room. Small, modestly furnished, with a large bay window through which shines a full moon. "Where are we? What happened? Why am I dressed like this?"

"Well, let's see." He comes to sit on the edge of the bed next to her, and hands her a cup of something hot. She sips: _Mmm, spicy chocolate…_

"You called me during your fancy dinner, said you were trying to call Margaret, you were crying, and I picked you up and brought you home with me." He pauses, glances ceiling-ward. "I think that about sums it up."

"Home…with you?" She looks up from her cup in surprise.

"Yeah. Welcome to the Boar's Hat Tavern, Elizabeth." He spreads his arms wide in a gesture of show and welcome. "Well, the upstairs, anyway."

"The…the Boar's Hat? This is your bar?"

"Yup."

Realization then hits Elizabeth and she searches frantically for her phone. "My phone—I have to call my sisters—oh, Father must be furious with me, and no one has any idea where I am—"

"It's right here, Elizabeth—" he hands it to her, "—but I already texted Margaret for you."

"You—you what?" She gapes.

"I think I made it sound like you, too," he continues cheerfully, and she opens her text messages and stares at the last outgoing text to Margaret.

 **Elizabeth**

M, dinner was too much; I'll explain l8r & I'm sorry if Father is furious. U can tell him I'm not well. A friend picked me up & I'm staying in town 2nite. I'm OK, so please try not to worry. B home tomorrow. Next day the latest, & I have my phone. Thx.

Elizabeth blushes. It _does_ sound like her, and he even signed it with the same heart emoji she always sends to her sisters.

"Thank…you." She ducks her head shyly.

"Sure."

Elizabeth checks her phone again, and the numbers on the screen read 1:23. _A.M. or P.M.?_ She glances up at the window— _Moonlight. Yes, A.M._

Her gaze shifts to Meliodas' face, still smiling at her from his seat on the edge of the bed. "Aren't you tired?"

He shrugs, and she realizes— "Oh, no, I'm sorry! I'm taking up your bed, aren't it?" She blushes more deeply at the idea. "I think I've slept enough, maybe there's another room, or I could just sit someplace and work on our project, or you could take me home…? I must be inconveniencing you so much…" She hangs her head, guilt written across her pretty, dainty features, and Meliodas frowns. She's not supposed to feel guilty for needing him.

 _She doesn't need you, you idiot—she was trying to call her sister._ Inwardly he groans. _Right. Well, whatever, she's here now, and she looks guilty, not angry, so that's got to mean_ something _._

"Okay, Elizabeth, since you think you've slept enough, how are you feeling?"

"I…I'd like to use your bathroom, please." Her voice is very small, embarrassed.

"Through that doorway." He gestures. "Let me see if I can dig up some sweatpants or something if you want to change. While I love how that dress makes your chest look, it doesn't look very comfortable."

He smirks at her slack jaw, and she's not sure whether to be flattered or to smack him, so she settles for scurrying into the bathroom and slamming the door behind her as quickly as humanly possible.

She finds herself in a small, pristine room with good lighting and a window covered with a thin white curtain—somewhat unexpected, as she never pegged Meliodas as a stickler for modesty, but she is grateful for it now as she unlaces the bodice of the green dress and lets it pool on the floor at her feet.

She fills the tub to brimming with hot water and steps carefully into it, letting the warmth soak into her skin and ease the tension from the evening, and the last of the potential hangover from the potent wine she had earlier drains from her system, as well, leaving her with clearer senses.

"Elizabeth?" Meliodas knocks on the door.

"Uh—no—don't come in!" She calls. "I—um—I'm not—"

"Oh, I see." His voice lowers to a more seductive purr. "Do you need any help?"

"N-no, go away, Meliodas!" She covers herself frantically underneath the water, even though the door is locked and he has made no attempt to get in.

"Just kidding. I found some clothes that might work for you. I'll leave them on the bed and just go downstairs, okay?"

 _That's…really nice of him._ She swallows. "Yes—okay. Thank you, Meliodas."

She listens carefully to receding footsteps, and as soon as the water has cooled, climbs out of the bath and wraps herself in a towel to reenter the bedroom which, thankfully, is empty. Neatly folded on the end of the bed are a pair of soft flannel pajama pants with a drawstring waist, and an unremarkable white shirt. She cinches the pants tightly around her slender frame, and breathes in the scent of the shirt as she pulls it over her head: faint, pleasant notes of cigarette smoke, cinnamon, and coffee beans. She twists her damp hair up into a bun and descends downstairs.

* * *

"Well, good morning, Elizabeth," Meliodas teases as she steps from the staircase into the large, open space that is the Boar's Hat Tavern.

She rolls her eyes and folds her arms over her chest, turning away from him to look around. "So this is your bar."

"Yup. Take a seat anywhere and I'll make you something to eat."

"You cook?" She raises her eyebrows in surprise.

"Sure." He keeps his back to her as he heads for the kitchen, concealing the mischievous smirk on his lips.

Ten minutes later, Meliodas returns and places a plate on the bar counter in front of Elizabeth. Her mouth waters as she takes in the sight and delicious scent of a buttery, flaky golden crust ringing a soft pile of whipped mashed potatoes, meat, carrots, leeks, green onion, peas, and mushrooms. A plump, pillowy dinner roll as big as her palm waits patiently next to the pot pie, and a stack of roasted asparagus occupies the rest of the plate.

"All right, Elizabeth! Eat up!" Meliodas leans on the bar and grins cheekily.

"Thank you." She picks up her fork and digs in…

…and gags. Meliodas' grin widens.

"Still," she manages around a mouthful she does not want to swallow, "thank you. It's delicious."

Meliodas laughs. "Want to order a pizza?"

"Yes, please." Elizabeth spits her bite into a napkin and crumples it onto the plate she pushes away from her; Meliodas continues to laugh and reaches for a take-out and delivery menu stashed under the counter.

Pizza delivery finds the two of them talking across the bar top, a mug of the strongest Vanya ale in Meliodas' hand, and Elizabeth's hands cupped around a mug of something milder, though still strong enough to have already deepened the flush in her cheeks. Soon, both mugs and the pizza box lie empty on the counter, as Meliodas and Elizabeth continue to laugh and talk, fueled by good food, good ale, and good company.

A short while before sunrise, Meliodas washes out the ale mugs and puts on a pot of coffee, and Elizabeth excuses herself to go upstairs, where she locks herself in the bathroom and stares at her reflection in the mirror.

Blue eyes sparkle back at her, and she is surprised by how… _happy_ she feels here. With Meliodas, she feels comfortable, and safe, after everything he's done for her, and to think that Arthur was so suspicious without any real reason to be… _Arthur._ Realization strikes like a lightning bolt, and Elizabeth winces. _Oh…shit._

 _Breathe, Elizabeth…Margaret knows you're safe, and that's all that really matters. Not like you vanished without a trace…_ Still, her fingers shake, and she turns on the tap and runs warm water over her hands until it becomes hot, and she takes in the warmth, breathing deeply. _Okay. It's okay._

As soon as she feels calm enough, she returns to the bedroom where she spent the night, spying her phone lying on the side table. She picks it up, checks it— _Dead._ In a way, kind of a relief.

"Elizabeth?"

She jumps, as Meliodas knocks on the bedroom door and pokes his head in. "Hey, you okay?"

"What? Oh, yes!" She blushes, and he pushes the door open and comes in balancing two coffee cups.

"What are those for?"

"Sun's coming up." He grins, and gently nudges her toward a door with a window latticed like the bay window opposite the bed, and she steps outside onto a small balcony. Meliodas follows, leaving the door open behind him, and hands Elizabeth one of the mugs, filled to the brim with black coffee smelling like roasted nuts and morning, steam wafting invitingly.

"Meliodas…" She hesitates. "Thank you."

He leans on the railing and takes a sip from his mug, looking out over the waking city. "I'm glad you're alright, 'cause that's what really matters to me."


	10. You Got A Fast Car

**A/N: Another apology, this one for the long amounts of time between updates now. My spring semester started back in January, and then my dad had to have a surgery, and a lot of my days have been very "get up and hit the ground running." On top of which I published all of the chapters I'd written ahead of time, so I'm playing catch up with this piece, but, no worries, it WILL be finished (whenever it's finished) and I'll try not to take more than a month—and hopefully not even that long—between updates. Please be patient, please read and review, your feedback helps keep me going. *hearts***

 **–** **10 –**

 **You Got A Fast Car**

" _ELIZABETH!_ "

She winces. She knew something like this would happen.

Margaret looks on in dismay through the doorway between kitchen and living room as Bartra paces around wildly, and Elizabeth sits primly on the ottoman, head bowed. The fingers of her right hand twist and toy with the opal ring on her left. Veronica, seated out of view at the breakfast table, glances worriedly toward her big sister, and Margaret busies herself, quickly whipping together the ingredients for Elizabeth's favorite white chocolate chunk cookies.

Bartra drags a hand through thinning, greying hair, panting now with the exertion of the energy he has expelled, ranting at his daughter. He stands in the middle of the room with his back toward Elizabeth, his eyes fastened on the fireplace and the pictures lining the mantelpiece. There is Elizabeth, five years old, clinging to the top of the very first tree she ever climbed. Margaret, Elizabeth, and Veronica dolled up, each wearing a wrist corsage, smiling together before a father-daughter dance. The three girls crowded around a laughing Bartra in an undated photo taken out in the vineyard, surrounded by baskets overflowing with bushels of grapes. He sighs, looking over the memories, and lowers his hand, his shoulders slumping with age and with the weariness of a father who worried all night for his daughter.

"Elizabeth." His voice is softer now, kinder, and he sits down in the chair that matches the ottoman and leans, elbows on knees, taking one of her hands in his. "Elizabeth. You really scared me."

"I know, Father."

"Margaret told me you stayed with a friend. Is that right?"

Elizabeth gently bites the inside of her bottom lip. "Yes."

"Then I will trust that you were safe, and that you knew what you were doing."

She looks up then, blue eyes wide.

"But." He speaks firmly. "But. Your decision to leave without a word, to me or to Arthur, was neither wise nor polite. I am disappointed."

Blue eyes well with tears… "Yes, Father."

Bartra gets up and rests a hand briefly on the top of Elizabeth's head, and then strides quickly out of the room. Elizabeth bows her head for a moment, and then gets up and flees to her room, shutting and locking the door. She throws herself down on her bed and stares blankly at her phone as it lights up with a text:

 **Meliodas**

Hey. Just want 2 C if U R OK.

She nibbles on her bottom lip and types a response.

 **Elizabeth**

Father's mad.

 **Meliodas**

He'll come around. He loves U.

 **Elizabeth**

Yeah…

 **Meliodas**

Do U need anything?

 **Elizabeth**

Guess not. C U school Monday.

The phone buzzes in her hand as Elizabeth moves to set it on the nightstand, and she glances at the screen, her insides contorting painfully at Arthur's name. She still hasn't spoken to him since she ditched dinner. _Is he mad?_

 **Arthur**

Ellie, R U OK?

 _He doesn't_ sound _mad…_ She hesitates. Should she…?

 _Better get it over with._

 **Elizabeth**

I'm OK.

Mere seconds after she sends the message, his face flashes across the screen and the phone vibrates in her palm. Before she can talk herself out of it, she accepts the call. "Hell…o?"

" _Elizabeth!_ " Arthur's voice on the other end sounds so full of _relief_ that her stomach twists guiltily, and for a terrifying second, she wonders if he could possibly know where she went or who she went with. Nothing _happened_ but maybe that doesn't matter, maybe it's still a betrayal…or maybe it's not… She closes her eyes and blows out a deep, silent breath.

"Hey!" In the next instant she tries to make her voice sound chipper and upbeat.

"Ellie, what happened? Why did you leave dinner without telling me if you weren't feeling okay?"

"I…um." She gulps, and finishes lamely with, "Bad sushi."

"But we didn't eat any sushi." He sounds confused, and before she can will it away the image of him tilting his head in that charming way, strands of orange shading deep violet eyes, enters her mind.

"I…I had some earlier in the day. It was old, and…it just hit me, and I had to go. I asked Margaret to pick me up."

"Oh…okay. Well, I wish you would have told me, you know? I could have taken you home, you wouldn't have had to wait."

"I know." She smiles weakly at her reflection in the full-length mirror across the room. "I'm sorry, Arthur. But I'm okay now, I think. I'll see you at school on Monday."

"Sure. Love you, Ellie."

She quickly hangs up the phone before anything else can be said, and collapses back onto her pillows with a moan. _WHY._

Her phone vibrates with another call, and she's relieved to see a contact photo of Diane winking playfully. "Diane!"

"Elizabeth!" Diane squeals so that Elizabeth has to hold the phone away from her ear for a few seconds. "Oh my God, guess what, guess _what_!"

Elizabeth grins to herself, the most genuine smile of the evening. Diane's trademark bubbly excitement never fails to cheer her up. "King proposed?"

" _No!_ —oh my God, Elizabeth, we're still in _high school_!" Diane takes a deep breath. "But…maybe after…" and Elizabeth can picture her best friend smiling, blushing, toying nervously with one of her curls. "But _anyway_! He asked me to the dance!"

"What dance?" She racks her brain, trying to remember whether she's seen any posters, or, for that matter, what time of year it even is, what dance it probably is.

"The _Valentine_ Dance, Elizabeth! Next month, on Valentine's Eve!"

Elizabeth widens her blue eyes. _Oh, no._

"No, Diane, I didn't…I did forget…or, umm…"

"Aren't you going with Arthur?"

"Well…"

Perhaps Diane didn't hear, though, or her excitement is just bubbling over as she continues, "We have to go dress shopping this weekend! That's three weeks then! Do you think that will be enough time? Oh, _maybe_ we should book hair appointments, but I _think_ you're supposed to book those _four_ weeks out, and…"

Elizabeth tries very hard not to sigh. "I'm sure there's enough time to shop, and hair appointments aren't necessary—it's not prom, Diane."

"Oh, I guess you're right…"

 _There. Crisis averted._

 _Except… It's not…really…_

"So, I'll pick you up on Saturday at 9:00?" Diane finally pauses for breath.

"Um. Sure, Saturday…"

"Okay, Elizabeth! _Eeeeeee_ I'm so _excited_!" Diane hangs up then, and Elizabeth slowly lowers the phone from her ear, her mind spinning.

"Saturday…"

* * *

Exactly one hour later, Elizabeth is sitting in the same position, holding her phone in the same hand, staring at the same rose on her patterned wallpaper, trying to wrap her thoughts around, well, _everything_. She shakes her silver hair around her shoulders vigorously to clear the fog as soon as her phone chimes a new text.

 **Meliodas**

Know U said you'll C me at school but U still need 2 look at this summary. What's your email?

 _Yes!—that's it, that's all I need! To get out of the house…away…for a while…_

Her fingers fly over the touch screen as she responds:

 **Elizabeth**

No, I can look at it. Meet at the library, 20 mins?

 **Meliodas**

:)

* * *

Twenty-two minutes later, Veronica drops her off, and Elizabeth finds Meliodas alone on the second floor of the library, at a table already spread with project materials, and she pauses in the doorway for a silent moment and studies him.

His head is bent over a notebook, blond hair falling into his eyes, while his right hand moves feverishly across the page. Every few minutes he pauses and tilts his head toward an open book, or glances up at a computer screen, and she glimpses the green of his eyes, focuses on the way he narrows them and nibbles on a corner of his mouth, deep in thought…

Until he glances further up and catches sight of her. She blushes at having been caught, but his eyes widen in surprise and he blushes too, and he grins, and she blushes more deeply at the childish excitement…

 _Elizabeth, get hold of yourself!_ She shakes her head quickly, regaining as much lost composure as possible, and joins him at the table. "Hi."

"Hi." His eyes are fastened on her face, and he's still smiling, and she quickly glances down at the notebook in front of him.

"Is that the summary?"

"Yeah." He slides it over to her and she reads it carefully, checking for mistakes as well as concise clarity. "What do you think?"

She pushes it away. "Pretty good. But right here…" she searches for a pen, and he hands one over, and their fingers brush, "…these sentences run together too much." She fixes the mistake. "There. Perfect."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

He waits while she pulls out her own notes and spreads them on the table, and then his voice is quieter as he asks, "How mad is he?"

She looks up in surprise. "Father?"

"No. Arthur."

"Oh…" _Great…_ "He…he's not, I don't think. At least, he doesn't seem like it. I—I told him that I wasn't feeling well and that Margaret picked me up."

His eyes are hooded by his hair. "I see."

She falters. "Should…should I not have?"

He smiles brightly at her. "No. It's fine."

They work in silence for a while, Elizabeth's thoughts continuously straying to Saturday. Dress shopping with Diane is always fun, and maybe Elaine can come, too, but…okay, she and Arthur will have to match, for the photos, and… Just as quickly, the image comes unbidden into her mind of posing for photos with Meliodas instead, matching, his hands on her waist, or perhaps a more fun pose, perhaps if he held her bridal style…the way he did the other night as he carried her across the threshold…

 _STOP!_ She shakes her head very quickly to clear the images— _Across the threshold!? Where did THAT come from!?_ —and the draft created by her long silver hair ruffles the pages Meliodas is looking at. He looks up at her.

"Everything okay, Elizabeth?"

"W-what?" She squeaks, her cheeks flushing crimson as if he could possibly know her thoughts. The sly smile that spreads across his lips at her blush does not help. "Y-yes! Fine!"

"Whatever you say." Casually, he licks his thumb and turns a page in a book, cool and collected, but Elizabeth just _knows_ that he knows that she's still blushing. And gazing at him.

"There'sadancecomingup!" She rushes out before she can talk herself out of it.

He gives her his full attention then, knitting his eyebrows together. "A dance?"

"At school. For Valentine's Day." _So what? Where exactly did you expect this to go?_

"So you'll be going with Arthur, then." It's not a question, though it is a safe assumption.

"I…" _Why did you even bring this up?_ "I—I guess so."

"Cool. Sounds like a good time."

She levels her gaze at him. "Will you come?"

Quickly, he shakes his head. "Nah, probably not. Not my thing. Plus Fridays and Saturdays are big nights at the tavern."

"Oh." Elizabeth looks down. "Um, of course."

"Excuse me."

They both look toward the doorway, and a librarian stands frowning at them. "It's nearly closing time. I suggest you both pack up your things and head on home now."

"Yes ma'am." Meliodas quickly gathers the papers and books on the table and stacks them neatly. "Come on, Elizabeth, I'll take you home."

It must have rained while they were working, because the parking lot is glowing with the light from the street lamps reflected across slick pavement, and as they descend the library steps, Elizabeth slips, twisting her ankle and losing her balance.

"Whoa, careful!" Meliodas wraps an arm around her waist just in time and rights her on the sidewalk. Her breath hitches as she notices he doesn't let her go, and instead ushers her to the lone car left in the lot, a lime Corvette coupe. He opens the passenger door for her and she glances down at him, puzzled.

"Forecast called for rain," he explains patiently. "I didn't want you to get wet on the bike."

"Oh. Thank you." She blushes at the gesture. "This…is yours, too?"

"What can I say?" He shrugs and grins cheekily. "I like fast cars."

Contrary to that, the drive to her house takes a little longer than necessary, and for a half moment Elizabeth suspects that he might have drawn it out on purpose. Soon though he pulls into the driveway and shifts the car into park, letting the engine idle.

She glances at his profile from the corner of her eye, left wrist casually relaxed on top of the steering wheel, the other resting on the gearshift, his cool expression lit by the eerie glow of the interior lights. "Meliodas?"

"Yeah?"

"You really won't make it to the dance?"

"You really want me to be there?"

"Um." How is she supposed to answer that? "I mean…"

He chuckles. "I don't dance, Elizabeth."

"Oh." _Well, as long as it's not because of me…or…that's silly. Why would it be?_ "Well. Thanks for the ride."

"Anytime." He smiles at her back, swallowing heavily in his throat, as he watches her climb out of the car and gracefully ascend the steps to her front door. He waits until her bedroom light comes on in an upper window before he drives away.


	11. A Match Made In Heaven

– **11 –**

 **A Match Made In Heaven**

Meliodas narrows his eyes, a shade of emerald darkened by emotion, at his reflection in the golden liquid that froths in a wooden tankard before him.

"You idiot," he mutters. "You love dancing."

And wouldn't he like nothing more than to spin Elizabeth elegantly around a dance floor by the hand, watch her sapphire eyes sparkle under dim light, admire the flash of white skin beneath a skirt whirling about her legs.

 _Yes_. The word slices through his alcoholic fog so clearly it's as though it's been shouted in an empty room, and he winces. Clenching one hand into a fist, he lifts the mug of ale in his other hand and guzzles it down.

* * *

 _Okay, Elizabeth. Focus. You can do this._ Elizabeth paces around her bedroom, alternately wringing her hands together and twisting a strand of silver hair come loose from her braid. _Just…tell him the truth. No, that might be too much; he doesn't HAVE to know everything. But tell him you don't want to be with him. No, too harsh. You've found somebody else. Maybe, but that might start something…_ She shudders at the thought of Arthur and Meliodas possibly coming to blows over her. If Meliodas would even be interested in her at all, after the fact.

 _Okay. Tell him you don't want to go to the dance with him. Yes, that's simple enough, and if he asks why not…_ She stops short. _What then?_ What _could_ she say to diffuse any conflict, to dissuade any hope of a reconciliation, but to also be amicable? And _then_ , even if she _is_ successful in all of that, what if she arrives at the dance with Meliodas, and Arthur is there, and a fight ensues, anyway?

She plops down on the rug, drawing her knees to her chest, and rests her head in her hands. Her temples are beginning to pound. Love is such a complicated thing.

 _Love._ Her head snaps up, startled at the turn her thoughts have taken. _Does_ she…love one of them? Both of them? _Could_ she?

Arthur hasn't questioned why she hasn't returned his sentiment yet, even though he reminds her every day. Perhaps he doesn't want to put any pressure on her; perhaps it doesn't matter to him whether she loves him or not, so long as they are together and happy.

 _Happy._ She's always been happy with Arthur, even when they were only good friends. He makes her smile, always remembers her birthday, always walks on the outer edge of the sidewalk so she may be safe from any stray cars, never belittles her opinion or feelings. They rarely disagree. "A match made in heaven," their fathers used to tease.

A match made in heaven, _indeed_.

What _of_ heaven, anyway? If the goddesses of the Britannian myths were real, what might they have to say about either match? And…for _that_ matter…what of her mother?

"Mom," Elizabeth moans. "What would you tell me to do?"

"What do you think she would tell you to do, Elizabeth?"

Her eyes fly to the doorway and she lets out a startled cry. Smiling sweetly as ever, Arthur walks into the room and offers a hand to help Elizabeth to her feet. They sit down together on the window seat. "What is it, Ellie?"

"N-n-nothing," she stammers out, staring at her mint green pedicure.

"Come on, Ellie. I know you better than that." He softens his voice. "You'd be going to your sisters for advice if it weren't so important. Not asking for your mom."

"They already gave me advice," she mumbles, and picks at a thread of embroidery on the cushion. She knows it's a weak excuse.

"Well. Whenever you're ready to talk about it, then, I'll be ready to listen. Okay?" He pulls her to him in a one-armed hug.

"But hey, look, I have something that might cheer you up in the meantime!" His bright smile returns, and yes, it _is_ cute the way his face takes on a look of boyish excitement…

"Elizabeth, you already know that I love you." He takes one of her hands in his and looks at her seriously. "And I was wondering if…maybe…" He reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a small velvet box, and then drops to one knee in front of her. Elizabeth's eyes widen and she searches desperately for words…

He opens the box to reveal, glimmering against a blue velvet cushion, a diamond…necklace. "…you'd go to the Valentine Dance with me?"

 _Oh my… Thank you, god…or goddess…or Mother…_ She breathes an audible sigh of relief.

Arthur grins, but a somewhat quizzical look settles over his features. "You okay? I know it's about a month away, but I wanted to make sure you'd have enough time to find a dress, pick flowers…"

"Um…" _No. No! NO. Don't. Do not._ "I…"

Patiently, he waits, eventually shifting positions so he can sit in front of her rather than kneel. "Ellie?"

 _Now or never._ "Arthur…" She closes her eyes. _It's time._ "I'msorryIcan'tgotothedancewithyou!"

Violet eyes blink blankly.

She takes a deep breath and tries again. "I'm sorry…but…I can't go to the dance with you."

"Okay…" He nods, slowly. "Well, if you don't want to go to the dance, maybe we could do something else. Dinner, a movie? Or just stay in and hang out?"

Elizabeth traps her bottom lip between her teeth, until blood rushes into her mouth. She cringes at the taste, quickly swallows. "No… I—I can't… I don't…"

"Ah." He looks away and gently releases the hand he holds. "I see."

"It's…It's not…"

"Let me guess. It's not me, right? It's you? But it really is me?"

As much as Elizabeth can appreciate this last show of humor, her heart breaks at the obvious pain in his eyes. "I'm…so… _sorry_."

"Just…" He hesitates. "Just tell me… No. Actually, don't; I don't think I want to know."

"But we can…" _No. Don't do that to him._

"Friends?" He climbs to his feet and pockets the jewelry box. "Yeah, Elizabeth. Maybe we can."

At the door, Arthur pauses. "I don't want to hold it against you. I just want you to be happy, and if he makes you happy… Well." He gives her one last smile, this one a little lopsided, sadly, and then he leaves. Gently shuts the door on his way out.

Elizabeth shatters.

* * *

The best part of breaking up is… There is none, is there? Hours after the fact, Elizabeth has buried herself beneath the silk duvet on her bed, her fluffiest blanket, and a dozen pillows. The comfort and warmth does little to ease the ache that lingers.

Margaret and Veronica, in turn, tried to get her to open up; even Veronica tentatively knocked on the door instead of barging in as usual. Elizabeth ignored their pleas all afternoon; they must already have some idea of what happened because of the manner in which Arthur left: politely though sadly, without Elizabeth to see him to the door.

She burrows more deeply into her bed, wishing to stay there forever.

* * *

"Elizabeth." A distant knocking. "Elizabeth, open up."

Groggily, she opens one eye.

"Elizabeth!" The voice and the sharp taps on the door become louder, and Elizabeth, slowly pulled back into consciousness, props herself up in bed.

"Veri…?"

"Elizabeth, are you still in bed? You've got to get up. You're gonna be late for school."

"No… I'm not going!" she calls back hoarsely.

"You can't miss again! You slept through it yesterday!"

Blankly, blearily, Elizabeth feels around in the bedcovers for her phone. Veronica is right; today is Tuesday, and it's almost 7:30. She must have slept through yesterday, and she _will_ be late if she doesn't get a move on…

"Elizabeth, I'm coming in." Before her younger sister can protest, Veronica swings the door open and marches in, already dressed in black leggings and a pink jacket with a fur-lined hood. "You're still in bed!"

Elizabeth blinks again, though this time it's a clear indication of _Why does this surprise you?_ Veronica rolls her amber eyes in reply.

"Here, Ellie." She thrusts an excuse note for yesterday into her sister's hand. "Get up, or I'll tell Father that you've been skipping school, and I'll tell him _why_."

This presents a fresh set of problems; Elizabeth hadn't yet even considered what Bartra might have to say about the break-up. She falls limply back into the pillows in despair.

Veronica softens. "Okay, Ellie. I'll let Margaret break the news. But you really have to come to school today; you can't avoid it forever."

She sighs and tosses back the covers. "Can you give me a ride?"

Her sister turns up the corners of her lips in a devilish smirk. "Oh, I think somebody already has that covered."

Elizabeth stares at her. "Who?"

—but Veronica is already heading out the door.

It must be Veronica or Bartra then, Elizabeth reasons, and she should not keep them waiting—particularly her father, who would prefer to have an early start in his office and would be displeased to have to wait an hour for her to get ready for school, when already she will probably be late… In lieu of a shower, then, Elizabeth throws on a camisole, cardigan, and leggings, twists her hair into a ponytail, and generously douses herself in deodorant and perfume. She tosses a piece of gum in her mouth as she scoops up her bag and descends the stairs. "I'm sorry, Father, I—" Stopping short a few steps from the bottom, completely thrown off by the cocky grin on Meliodas' face, leaning casually against the banister as if he stands in her foyer every morning.

"Yo, Elizabeth!"

Immediately she regrets not taking longer to freshen up.

He opens the front door for her. "Ready to go?"


	12. Chemistry

**–** **12 –**

 **Chemistry**

"How did you know I needed a ride to school?" Elizabeth questions when she finally finds her voice at the same instant Meliodas finds a parking spot in the high school lot.

"I didn't. When you didn't show up in class yesterday, and weren't at the library, and didn't answer any of my messages, I decided to check up on you on my way here this morning." Turning to her, he cocks an eyebrow. "Why wasn't Arthur there to pick you up today?"

Suddenly she reaches out and yanks Meliodas to her by the front of his shirt, crushing her lips to his. He kisses her back, hotly and heavily, one hand sliding underneath her shirt to caress her skin and the other tangling itself roughly into her hair, fallen free from its elastic. She moans and his tongue dips into her mouth, and her cheeks flush crimson—

Blinking away the fantasy at the instant she can feel her face growing hot, her gaze darts to meet his and immediately away as she realizes he's still waiting for an answer. Shrugging wordlessly, she quickly opens her door and clambers out of the car.

The parking lot is full of cars and empty of people at this hour of the morning, and the better for her, Elizabeth decides as she speed-walks into the school, leaving Meliodas sauntering in her wake. It will already be too much that people will ask questions when they see her and realize that she did not arrive with Arthur as usual; the _last_ thing she needs is for _any_ body to see her walk inside with _Meliodas_. Even in a large school people talk.

Meliodas takes the hint and heads to first period alone while Elizabeth goes to the office with yesterday's excuse note. Even better for her; this way, they won't have to walk into class together, late, either.

But, to her dismay, when she turns down the hallway her locker is in, Meliodas is there.

"Why didn't you go to class?" she hisses, rushing to dial in her combination and yank out the correct books. "Now everybody will see us walk in together! Late! And start to talk!"

"Let them talk," he drawls. "Like they won't anyway."

Her face burns. "That…that doesn't matter! You're just going to make it worse!"

He grins wryly. "Eh. I'm already going to hell."

"Argh!" Elizabeth slams her locker door, spins on her heel, and marches away toward her classroom. Appreciating the sight of her hips and ponytail swinging in frustration, Meliodas trails after her.

Mr. Zaratras frowns at the interruption when the two of them open the classroom door, but he nods as soon as Elizabeth hands him her excused absence slip, and the two take their seats. Their classmates stare. Elizabeth hunches over her desk and quickly lets her hair down from the ponytail, hoping it will fall around her face enough to hide her embarrassment.

* * *

"I hope you're all making good progress on your projects," Mr. Zaratras reminds them at the end of class. "We'll start presentations in six weeks! I don't have to remind you how quickly that time will pass. Remember to follow the rubric and to work out presentation details with your partner!"

Elizabeth is the first one out the door as soon as the bell trills—

—and is immediately intercepted by Diane, running through the hall that slowly floods with students trickling out of classrooms.

" _Elizabeth!_ " Diane grips her arm roughly and yanks her down the hallway, violet eyes glowing fiercely.

"Ow!" Elizabeth tries to break free, with little success, and finally Diane pulls her to a section of empty space against the wall and releases her. "What was _that_ all about!?"

"Why didn't you tell me!?" Diane demands. "About—" She lowers her voice to a conspiratorial whisper but maintains her indignant tone. "—you and Arthur!?" She narrows her eyes, staring at Elizabeth, searching for an explanation.

Before she can stop herself, Elizabeth glances back toward the door of Mr. Zaratras' classroom, where Meliodas is just walking out, and he glances her way, locking gazes—and Diane digs her fingernails into Elizabeth's skin again.

"You and _Meliodas_!?" she practically screeches, and Elizabeth wants to slap her.

" _Shhhhhh!_ " She settles for slapping a hand over her best friend's mouth instead, and glances around; as loud as Diane was, fortunately everybody seems so engrossed in their own conversations, and nobody is paying them any attention. " _Don't!_ "

Diane is too surprised to pull away from Elizabeth's hand, and instead just gawks, her eyes as large and round as saucers. As soon as Elizabeth removes her hand, Diane's jaw slackens. "You… _What? Why? When? How?_ "

Elizabeth rolls her eyes and brushes the silver bangs away from her right eye in frustration. "Look, I'll tell you everything later, okay, if you _promise_ not to bring it up again! _No_ , we're not together, and _no_ , nobody else knows, and _nobody_ needs to know… I don't want people to start gossiping and spread rumors."

"But the dance, Elizabeth!" She manages to spit out, and Elizabeth briefly wonders if her best friend was more concerned about that than she was about _her_.

"I don't know, Diane."

"But you'll still come help me pick out a dress, _right_!?" The violet eyes turn pleading.

Elizabeth shakes her head begrudgingly. "Yes, yes, okay? I'll still go shopping with you."

Diane grabs her by the shoulders and gives her a gentle shake. "Are you _okay_ , Elizabeth?"

She shrugs. "I'm here. I'm fine. I _will be_ fine."

Diane pauses, but pulls her into a tight hug. "Promise me you will be, and that if there's anything I can do—"

"There is." Elizabeth glares at her. " _Don't. Tell._ "

"What about Elaine?"

"Elaine, fine, but no one else. Not King, not Ban. Promise?"

Diane holds out her pinky, and they lock little fingers and shake. "Promise."

* * *

Lunch would have been an awkward affair, so Elizabeth chooses to spend it alone in the library to catch up on homework, and Diane has the good sense to leave her alone to it. Elaine accosts her with text messages demanding reassurance, and after several minutes, Elizabeth has managed to satisfy her, and she turns her phone off and puts it away. No more distractions.

"Yo."

 _Great. A distraction._

When a shadow falls across her desk, Elizabeth resists the urge to roll her eyes, curses her quickened heartbeat, and manages to look up without glaring. "What?"

"Come on, Elizabeth, that's not a very nice way to greet me, and all I wanted was to offer you my services." Meliodas quickly rearranges his features into a childish pout.

"I appreciate the offer, Meliodas, but I don't think there's anything you can do to help with balancing these chemical equations." She flips open her textbook and writes her name at the top of the homework page.

"You'd be surprised." He sits down next to her and waggles his eyebrows suggestively. "I know all about chemistry."

She rolls her eyes, biting down on the inside of her cheek.

"Actually, I came to see if you needed a ride home, too, or if your _boyfriend_ is going to take you." He only subtly emphasizes the word, but Elizabeth's writing hand stills.

"Um."

"And why aren't you having lunch with your friends, today, either?" he continued, leaning on the table, purposefully over the page so she can't focus on it.

"Um…"

"Elizabeth…"

She gasps in surprise as he reaches out and takes away her pencil, then takes her shaking hand into his.

"…what's wrong?"

"I have to go. I can't do this now." Abruptly she pulls away, and Meliodas watches her leave with a strange expression fixed upon his face.

* * *

"We broke up."

Meliodas looks up, startled, and wonders just how long Elizabeth has been leaning against his car—and, more importantly—how he didn't notice her there in the first place. "Huh?"

"Please. Don't." She's staring at her feet, her silver hair falling in unkempt waves over her shoulders and down her back, and her voice is small. "I know you heard me."

"I'm sorry, Elizabeth."

"Me too." She straightens up and folds her arms tightly across her body, hugging herself like it will keep her from breaking into pieces. "Is your offer to take me home still available?"


	13. Would You Forget Me If I Asked You To?

**–** **13 –**

 **Would You Forget Me If I Asked You To?**

"I thought you were taking me home!"

"This is home." Calmly Meliodas turns off the car.

" _My_ home!"

"Oh." He shrugs his shoulders, managing to look innocent. "You never specified."

Elizabeth rolls her eyes and lets out a sharp breath, blowing her bangs away from her face. _Every time…_

"Does Bartra know yet?"

"I don't know. Veronica said Margaret would tell him."

"Then maybe you don't want to go home, anyway."

Well. She can't very well argue with that logic, so, as he unlocks and opens the door to the tavern, she follows him in without another word.

"Make yourself at home." He waves a hand, smirking mischievously. "I mean, you did before, anyway."

 _Ugh. Right._ She winces, remembering the first and last time she came here, a drunken mess, and tries to push away the memory of that ill-fated night. Inside the tavern's main room, she plops her bag onto the bar and slumps onto a stool, cradling her head in her hands. "Could this week get _any_ worse?"

"Let's see. You could be a princess, on the run from imprisonment by a group of knights who are supposed to protect the kingdom but instead have taken it over, and end up faced with a demon with a crazy amount of power, and your pet pig could be killed in the war."

Elizabeth's head snaps up in bewilderment; Meliodas is staring thoughtfully at the ceiling, tapping his chin.

"You know, hypothetically."

She arches an eyebrow. "That's…oddly specific."

"Sure. But see, Elizabeth, things could always get worse."

"Are you trying to make me feel better?"

"It's not working?"

She rummages in her bag. "Maybe Veronica can come pick me up."

"Okay, okay. How about I get you something to drink, and you can tell me everything. Or not. Whatever you want."

"Got anything stronger than what I had the last time?"

He laughs loudly, running his fingers through his hair. "Sure, but you're a lightweight, Elizabeth. Let's work you up to that point."

He pours two mugs of a rosy golden liquid and slides one in front of her, leaning on the bar with the other. "I usually buy all my liquor wherever I can find it, but this one is special. This is the only one that I brew myself."

"You…you make this?" She raises the mug to her lips with both hands, and takes a tiny taste.

Meliodas sips his own, watching carefully for her reaction.

"Mmm… It's really good!" Elizabeth tries a longer sip. "Like…honey, and…pear?"

He nods, grinning. "You like it?"

She nods, gulping the drink, and he reaches over and gently lowers it from her mouth. "Slow down. This stuff's still alcoholic, and I can't take you home tonight if you get drunk again."

She levels her gaze at him. "I don't want to go home."

"Why not?"

Elizabeth stares down into the ale in her mug. "I don't want to have to face my father about this. He… I don't think he'll take it well. My relationship with Arthur was kind of important to him, because of his business relationship with Arthur's dad."

"That's not on you to maintain, Elizabeth."

"No…but they've had this perfect future planned out for us, and they kept talking about it at that dinner, like I wasn't even there, and I just…"

"I'm sorry. That's not fair."

She shakes her head, blinking away tears. "Arthur said…he…he l-l-loves m-me a-a-and…" She sniffles, and Meliodas hands her a linen napkin. "B-but, I—"

"You don't love him."

After wiping her eyes, Elizabeth blows her nose, and gulps from the glass of water he gives her. Shakily, she regains her composure, twisting the napkin in her hands. "I wondered if…if maybe I _could_ love him…I know it's what everyone…what Father wanted…" She draws in a deep breath, and Meliodas waits patiently for her to continue, draining the last of his drink and pouring another.

When she doesn't, he ventures another assumption. "So you decided to be honest with him."

"I…I mean, yes, I suppose…"

He narrows his eyes in thought, and decides to press her further. "Elizabeth… What are you not telling me?"

"W-what!?" She squeaks, suddenly paling and blushing at once.

 _Okay, maybe that was too much. Let's change the subject._ "So I guess you won't be going to the dance with him, then?"

"He asked me, but…"

"You said no?"

She finally raises her head to look at him, too. "I said no."

She bites her bottom lip, hesitating. "I…know you said that Saturdays are really busy nights for you here…but I was wondering if maybe…you'd…like to… I mean…" Faltering, she trails off, returning her gaze to the cup in front of her.

 _Elizabeth…_ Meliodas quickly turns away and rinses out the mug in his hands, desperate to get his focus off of her beautiful face, hopelessly fighting the urge to wrap her up in his embrace. Abruptly, a sharp pain stabs through his finger—green eyes wide, surprised, he glances down at his hands—and the wooden mug has splintered from the pressure of his hold. He didn't realize he was squeezing it so tightly, but… _Okay. Okay._

In a flash he jumps the counter, landing neatly on the other side and pulling her close to him, one arm wrapped around her shoulders, his other hand tangled in her hair. "Elizabeth…"

 _If you disappear from my life, I'll have no reason to live…_

 _Then don't hurt her, Meliodas. Don't lose her like you did Liz._

"Elizabeth." He pulls back, holding her at arms'-length, and gazes at her with very serious green eyes. "Elizabeth… Would you forget me if I asked you to?"

 _What? No, I…_ Equally serious but with wider eyes, the most she can do is shake her head, long silver bangs swishing over her forehead.

 _Thank you, Elizabeth._ He relaxes one hand on her shoulder and gently brushes his other hand over her cheek, his eyes narrowing softly as she closes her eyes in response to his touch. "Then let me take you to the dance."

* * *

"Mel-ee-oh-das…" Elizabeth draws out the syllables in his name, and the blond looks up from where he's wiping down the bar counter.

"Yes?"

"You said… I thought…" She pauses. "You don't dance."

He grins. "I did say that…didn't I?" He hops over the counter like he did before, cues up some music on his phone, and holds out his hand to her. "Dance with me, Elizabeth?"

Incredulous blue eyes blink back at him, but she doesn't protest as he pulls her into his arms, guiding both of her hands to his shoulders and placing his own hands on either side of her waist. She blushes, lightly and then more deeply as he spins her around the room in time with the music. She stumbles some as it picks up in tempo and he spins her faster, and he balances her, pulling her against him.

"Careful, Elizabeth…"

"I—I'm just—tired," she manages.

He releases her and steps back, and immediately she regrets her words. "It is getting pretty late." Meliodas rubs his chin thoughtfully. "Do you still not want to go home?"

When she doesn't answer right away, he quickly adds, "You're welcome to spend another night here, you know."

"I don't want to go home, but…"

"But what, Elizabeth?"

"I…I don't…"

"It's okay. I can give you a shirt or something to sleep in." Without giving her much of a choice, he scoops her up into his arms and carries her swiftly up the stairs, depositing her gently onto his bed. "Let's see…" He rummages around in his closet. "Here."

In the bathroom, Elizabeth changes into his shirt, a white button-down that's tight across her chest but falls generously to mid-thigh. It doesn't _completely_ cover her panties in the back, but it will have to do. She rolls up the sleeves to three-quarter-length, draws in a deep, calming breath, and emerges from the bathroom.

Meliodas grins at her from the bed. "Yo." His green eyes sweep up and down her figure, and she fidgets nervously under his gaze. "You make that shirt look way better than I do."

"Thank you." She glances from his face to the space beside him. "So…"

"What's wrong, Elizabeth? It's not like you haven't slept in my bed before." He winks.

 _Argh—!_ She wonders briefly whether it's actually possible to die from embarrassment; if so, Meliodas will surely be the death of her.

As if sensing her apprehension, he gives her a serious look. "We're adults, Elizabeth, and I'm not going to hurt you. I'm not going to do anything to you that you don't want me to do." There's no double meaning intended, but her thoughts immediately flash to that possibility, and her heart skips one beat.

"Okay." Taking another deep breath, she strides across the room and slips between the covers next to him, careful not to touch him. "Are you gonna wake me up for school tomorrow, or should I set an alarm on my phone?"

"I'll wake you." He turns off the bedroom light, and a few minutes later, is breathing deeply and evenly. Acutely aware of his presence, Elizabeth, facing the other direction, stares at the moonlight filtering in from the window, listening to his breathing and hoping that even if sleep comes, the morning won't.

* * *

Sleep doesn't come for Meliodas, though he keeps his breaths measured so that she might think he's sleeping, and thus relax. Maybe he should've slept on the floor.

Before midnight, though, he senses her body relax next to him as she nods off, so he rolls onto his back and sighs at the ceiling, remembering the feel of her in his arms as they waltzed around the tavern, and remembering the morning, in the car, when she stared off into space as though lost in a thought…or a fantasy. _She asked me to the dance…she_ wants _to go with_ me _. I wonder…_

He stays like that, wondering, until he feels movement on the mattress next to him as she shifts, once, twice, tossing and turning in her sleep. When she doesn't settle back down, he turns to her and props himself up on an elbow, seeing in the dim light that her face is flushed and her brow creased. _She's dreaming…_

"No…ungh, no…Meli…"

 _Is she dreaming of_ me _?_ He hesitates, hardly daring to think his next thought. _Is she…does she want…does she feel…?_

"Please, Meliodas…please…" she whimpers. "Don't…"

 _Ah._ He shakes strands of blond hair out of his eyes and falls back onto his pillow. No. She doesn't want him. Of course not—how could she? _Why would_ she?

"Please…d-don't…don't leave…me…"

His gaze flits back to her face in shock. He swallows thickly. _Elizabeth…_ "Tell me," he whispers to her sleeping figure. "Tell me how you feel."

Her breathing picks up, and he leans closer. "Elizabeth, tell me how you feel about me."

"No…don't." She fidgets more urgently. "Don't, Arthur, please…don't hurt…"

 _Is he hurting her? She's having a nightmare. Wake up!_ "Wake up, Elizabeth!" He shakes her first gently and then harder. "It's just a dream! _Wake up, Elizabeth!_ "

His voice sounds harsher than he intended, but it works, and Elizabeth jerks awake underneath his hands, blinking rapidly and panting, and she bolts upright. "What—what _happened_? Meliodas—you're—you were—" Tears well in her eyes.

Without hesitation he pulls her into his lap, strong arms forming a protective cradle around her thin frame. "It was just a nightmare, Elizabeth. You're okay."

" _No_ —it wasn't _me_ , it was—you—you tried to _leave_ me a-and then you got—hurt—" She chokes on a sob, and Meliodas runs his fingers through her hair, damp and matted with sweat, as she buries her face in his shoulder.

"Shhhh," he soothes. "I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere."

She takes deep breaths, composing herself, and Meliodas loosens his hold on her so he can look at her. Green and blue eyes locked, he raises his thumb to her cheek and smoothes it over the rosy, flawless skin, wiping away her tears, acutely aware of her breath and heart rate having picked up beneath his touch.

She watches him, entranced. "Meliodas…"

"Elizabeth…" His voice is husky, seductive without intent, as his rough hands tenderly cup her face and draw her closer. Little by little, he closes the distance between them…

"Meliodas…" She breathes, and in the next instant, very softly, he presses his lips to hers.

Elizabeth sighs into the kiss, deepening it as she tangles her fingers into his hair, and every regretful, confusing, longing feeling from the past three days leaves her body in a freeing rush. Meliodas moves one hand to the base of her skull, cradling her head as his lips move against hers, and wraps his other arm around her waist to pull her body flush against his, and when she feels his tongue gently brush across her bottom lip, she opens her lips for him to slip inside, and slowly, tenderly, he explores the soft warmth of her mouth, falling back onto his pillow on the bed and pulling her with him.

Elizabeth brushes her fingers along his jawline, and he runs his fingers through her long hair, ending at her waist, where he rests one hand on her bare thigh as she straddles his lap, and his other hand strokes the hem of his shirt that she wears, choosing not to explore underneath but to savor the anticipation, and the feeling of _finally_ being able to hold her like he's wanted to for so long.

Their first kiss goes on and on until Elizabeth finally pulls away, just enough to catch her breath.

Meliodas gazes at her, not saying anything, taking in the gorgeous sight of her flushed face, wide blue eyes, silver hair in complete disarray.

"W-what?" she asks finally, searching his face for a clue as to his silence. "Was…was it not…?" Her face flames and she quickly looks down and moves to climb off of him, but Meliodas grabs her legs to hold her in place.

He swallows, and his reply is a throaty whisper. "You look _beautiful_ , Elizabeth."


	14. Do You Love Me?

**–** **14 –**

 **Do You Love Me?**

Sunlight flooding the bedroom in the morning disorients Elizabeth as she opens her eyes, yawns, and stretches, and realizes—

 _It's Wednesday. Oh, my God. We're going to—_

"Meliodas, wake up! We're going to be late for school! You promised you'd wake me!" She jostles the sleeping blond next to her, and he groggily opens one eye.

"Shush, 'Liz-beth." He reaches an arm over her body and pulls her close, resting his head against her breast, and she blushes as she realizes their bare legs are tangled together beneath the sheets, she's wearing almost nothing but one of his shirts, and—

 _Oh. My. God._ She bolts up in bed, shocked, as the moonlight hours flood back to her all at once. Meliodas grumbles at this sudden displacement of his head, and he sits up next to her, rubbing one hand across his face.

 _Oh, but what a glorious good morning…_

Mentally, she gives herself a good shake. _Why are you gawking, Elizabeth? What the hell is wrong with you!?_

But she can't help her eyes traveling up and down his naked torso as she remembers her legs over his lap, his hands in her hair, his tongue slipping in and out of her mouth… _Oh. Ab-so-lute-ly nothing._

Then his eyes flick to hers, and she blushes even more to have been caught staring. He smirks and cocks a suggestive eyebrow. "See something you like?"

" _Eep!_ " She fumbles for the sheet to cover herself, to hide behind, but Meliodas quickly tugs it out of her grip. His green eyes slowly travel up and down her body…

"Yeah. You make that shirt look _way_ better than I do." He grins and brushes a kiss against her cheek before hopping out of the bed and heading for the bathroom, leaving her staring after him, stunned.

 _What…even…happened last night?_ She reaches for the sheet again and twists it nervously, trying to remember _everything_ , and she pieces together snatches of the evening, the delicious ale, the dance, and then later, the nightmare. _Ah…right…_ That's what happened. That's what led to the…to _it_.

Elizabeth touches her bottom lip in wonderment. _Our first kiss._

Meanwhile, safely locked in the bathroom, Meliodas leans over the sink, gazing at his reflection in the mirror with dark, heavily lidded green eyes. _Meliodas, you…_

 _She is…incomparable._ The corners of his mouth quirk upward in a sly smile, but quickly, the cockiness fades. _Meliodas._ Elizabeth is special. Like Liz. _Un_ like any girl that came before Liz, or any that came between her and Elizabeth.

And this…whatever _this_ is…

He lifts his gaze to his reflection in the mirror, and stares deeply into his own eyes, as if looking into his own soul.

 _Do you love her?_

The question rings clear as day in his thoughts, as if he'd asked aloud, and for a split second he worries that he did and that she heard. But he relaxes his shoulders, while his brow furrows. _Do I love her?_

And then, he wonders about her, _Do you love me?_

And when he realizes he has no idea, _Do you_ not _love me?_

This possibility is the most terrifying of all.

A hot shower does wonders to ease the tension in his body, though little to untangle the nerves inside, and he pushes them aside as he towels off after and brushes his teeth.

"Damn it, Meliodas!" A loud knock on the door startles him into swallowing the toothpaste, and he starts coughing and has to chase it with water. "We're already going to be late for school!"

A small smile plays on his lips. Elizabeth is _cute_ when she's irritated.

He opens the door to find her waiting on the other side with her arms crossed over her chest. "What's the rush?"

She rolls her eyes.

"I thought we'd just take the day off."

Elizabeth gapes at him.

He folds his arms and smirks at her. "It's not like you haven't skipped before."

"I had an _excuse_ for that day—"

"No, you had an excuse _note_ that Veronica forged for you." His steady green gaze matches the intensity of her annoyed blue one, until she turns away with a sigh.

"Elizabeth." Meliodas steps forward and wraps one arm around her waist, pulling her to him, and she whirls around in his grasp, blue eyes wide. "Would it be so bad to take a day off with me?"

He offers a charming half smile, and a faint blush creeps up her neck, blooming on her cheeks. "I…" _…know what he's doing, and damn it, I don't want—_ Her mind pauses mid-thought to rebuke her. _Don't lie. You do._

Meliodas gently brushes his thumb over her bottom lip, releasing it from her top teeth; she didn't realize she'd been nibbling on it. At his touch, though, whatever resolve she had melts away. "Okay."

"Great!" Meliodas' smile widens, and he quickly spins her around and nudges her toward the bathroom door. "Go get ready!"

"Ready for what? You said we were taking the day off!"

"But it's a beautiful day, Elizabeth! Let's go out!"

 _Out? Like out, or like_ out _out?_ Butterflies take flight in her stomach. _Like on a date, out?_

She doesn't have the courage to ask.

* * *

By the moment Elizabeth climbs out of the bath and wraps herself in a soft towel, she realizes, horrified, that she has nothing to wear except for the clothes she wore to school yesterday when she had slept for a day and then not showered. _No way_ —she can't wear those _again_ without washing them first…and she certainly can't go out wearing only the shirt of Meliodas' that she slept in. _Well—now what?_

Hesitantly she cracks open the bathroom door and peers out. There isn't any sign of Meliodas, which is a relief—she's only wearing a towel, after all, and while it doesn't cover her much more than his shirt did, she wasn't fresh from the shower last night.

 _Last night._ Again, she remembers, and it hits her like a freight train. _He kissed me. We kissed. No—we didn't just kiss, we practically made out—and I was in his lap…_ Dazed by the sharp memory of the softness of Meliodas' lips, the warmth of his hand on her thigh, she stands in the middle of the room and her grip on the towel slowly, unconsciously, loosens.

"There you are, Elizabeth!" Meliodas bursts through the bedroom door, yanking her from the trance, and she shrieks and fumbles to clutch the towel more tightly around her body. He stops and frowns at her. "Why aren't you dressed yet?" Then his green eyes darken and he raises a suggestive eyebrow. "If you needed help, you only had to ask—"

"No!"

He grins. "I figured you might not have anything to wear, so I bought you some clothes. They're in the closet."

"You…what?"

"Put them on and come downstairs! I'll make coffee, but if you want breakfast either you'll have to cook it or we'll go out." Just as quickly as he came, he disappears, and she blows out a breath and pulls open the wardrobe doors.

Several white shirts identical to the one she wore last night hang neatly in a row, and she resists the urge to press one sleeve to her nose and see whether it smells like laundry or like Meliodas. Draped around the neck of another hanger are a couple of casual ties that she's never seen him wear, then some T-shirts, and a stack of jeans and dark pants leans unsteadily against the wall, next to several pairs of shoes that are just tossed in. His trademark leather jacket is the last thing, and she brushes her fingertips over it for just a moment, smiling.

Elizabeth pushes the hanging shirts to the side, searching for these clothes he mentioned… _What in the world did he buy me, and how would he even know my size?_ She shakes her long silver hair, unsure. _Well—_ and she sees them, hanging in the back, and… _He can't be serious._

Of course, Meliodas is both always serious and never serious about anything.

She pulls the hanger out of the closet, staring at it in disbelief.

A light pink crop top with a ruffled hem has been paired with a very short, pleated black skirt and a pair of sheer black stockings. There is also a pair of mismatched ballet flats—one black, one white, and she glances through the rest of the closet for the correct matches, but this is very apparently not an oversight on Meliodas' part. _Of course not._

Altogether, the outfit looks like it will put her chest on display, and hardly cover her panties.

But, she has nothing else, so with a sigh, she quickly pulls on the clothes and glances in the mirror. _Well. It's skimpy…but a perfect fit._ She gives her reflection a small smile and brushes her silver hair over her shoulders.

Meliodas is casually sitting at the bar with two steaming cups of coffee when Elizabeth slowly descends the stairs, and he glances her way, his face lighting up with a smile when he sees her dressed in the outfit he picked out. Quickly, though, he masks this innocent delight with his usual devilish smirk—though not quickly enough that she doesn't notice.

"Well, good morning, Elizabeth," he says cheerfully. He gestures to the stool beside him. "Coffee?"

"Yes, thank you." Self-consciously she tugs on the skirt as she takes a seat.

"You look great."

Her eyes dart to his, her face blushing hotly under his very serious gaze. "H-how did you know my size?"

Meliodas gives her a wicked smile. "I measured you while you were sleeping."

"Are you serious!?" she screeches.

"Of course not." His reply is so nonchalant that she has no idea, and she stares into her cup of coffee to avoid looking at him; the silence that falls between them is not uncomfortable, but feels charged with a tension that did not exist before…the kiss.

 _Should I bring it up?_ Elizabeth gulps down some of the coffee, welcoming the burning distraction. _Should we talk about it…? Did it mean anything…?_

 _It meant everything to me…but what about to her?_ Meliodas busies himself for a moment with his own drink. _I shouldn't have pushed her so soon. I should have waited. I should have let her come to me. Damn it, I should never have let myself get so close to her in the first place. We should talk about it._

"Meliodas—" she says at the same moment he says, "—Elizabeth—" and they smile at each other, chuckling awkwardly, quickly glancing away and then back until Meliodas softly grabs her wrist. "Please, Elizabeth—I want to apologize."

"What?" Her blue eyes widen and darken with some fleeting emotion, and he narrows his eyes: _Is that…disappointment?_

"F-for what?" she stutters, a high-pitched squeak.

"I shouldn't have…last night."

 _But…_ She pulls her hand from his grasp and turns away from him, toward the bar. _But…I wanted…I liked…_

 _Then SAY that, dammit!_

Elizabeth gulps the rest of her coffee and slams the cup down. "Meliodas!?"

Her sudden ferocity leaves him taken aback. "…Yeah?"

She faces him again, looking deeply into his emerald eyes, and chickens out. "…Can I have some more coffee?"

He looks at her strangely. "Sure."


	15. Elizabeth's First Time In Control

**–** **15 –**

 **Elizabeth's First Time In Control**

 **A/N: This chapter is dedicated especially to my new friend nhus321, who created the AMAZING cover art for this story! Thank you SO much, and readers, please check out her fanfic, entitled "Meliodas is a BABY?" which I'm super enjoying reading! :D Much love. *hearts***

* * *

This time when Meliodas climbs onto his motorcycle, Elizabeth hesitates for two reasons: 1) the extremely short skirt, and 2) because of his apology for the kiss. Like he regretted it.

He senses her hesitation and holds his breath until he feels her climb on and slide up behind him. After a beat, she hugs his torso, and he exhales the tension in his shoulders. "You okay, Elizabeth?"

She nods her head against his back. Meliodas kick-starts the bike.

* * *

"What are we doing here?" Elizabeth gazes at the forest on either side of this deserted, secluded stretch of road. "Is this the part when you murder me and bury my body in the woods?"

"Elizabeth." His voice is low, very serious, and his eyes darken as he gazes at her. "I would _never_ hurt you."

 _Oh._

Then Meliodas gives her a gleeful smile. "You're going to drive my bike!"

Her mouth drops open. "…What?"

He gestures for her to scoot toward the front, and then he stands in front of her, explaining. "Okay, so, listen carefully. Everything on the left corresponds to and controls the gears, while the right controls acceleration and braking. Got that?"

"You've seriously got to be joking."

"This," he points to the left handlebar, "is the hand clutch, and you'll need to squeeze it whenever you want to change gears, because it'll put the bike in neutral long enough for you to shift up or down. You do that by stepping down on this gear shift by your foot at the same time, and, of course, slowing down."

"You really are trying to kill me, aren't you?"

"The throttle is here, on the right handlebar, and it's for accelerating, and right here is the front brake. Very important. This lever by your right foot is the rear brake—just as important. Got it?"

"I knew skipping school would be a bad idea." She groans, swiping her bangs away from her face in frustration.

"Elizabeth, pay attention," he says patiently. "You can do this. Let's start with something simpler—"

"—Like you driving us back to the tavern?" she asks hopefully, and he gives her a look.

"—Like you starting standing on the ground, letting the clutch out very slowly, and just walking forward so you get a sense of balance. Okay?"

She stares at him like he's crazy.

"Elizabeth, I'm right here. You're not going to get hurt."

She gulps and nods, knowing there's no way she'll be able to talk him out of this.

"Now. What do you do first?"

"Kick-start it?"

"Yeah." He gives her a lopsided grin. "See?"

Under his direction, then, she slowly goes through each of the controls until she has a better sense of how to handle the motorcycle, and eventually the dragon purrs smoothly beneath her. Meliodas nods, satisfied.

"All right, Elizabeth, let's see what you can do!" He climbs on behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her against his body, and her cheeks warm. _Oh, no. No distractions. Focus._

Slowly, she lets out the clutch until the motorcycle begins to roll forward on the ground, and she accelerates cautiously and then with a little more abandon, switching gears fluidly, until they're flying through the forest.

"Yeah, Elizabeth!" He whoops behind her, and her stomach flutters at his expression of pride.

After a short while, she switches gears and decelerates, eventually bringing the dragon to a complete stop in the middle of the road, and she steadies it.

"Elizabeth?" Meliodas rests his hands on either side of her waist. "You still with me?"

She throws her head back, laughing, and he grins in relief. "It's amazing, isn't it?"

Over her shoulder, she locks eyes with him. Hers are sparkling. "Yeah. It is."

For a moment, they just stare at each other, smiling. Then before she can think about it, Elizabeth leans forward and kisses him.

No time for him to think about or question it, either, and Meliodas kisses her back, sliding an arm around her waist to pull her flush against him, until they break apart, breathing heavily and no longer from the adrenaline of Elizabeth's first time in control.

"Elizabe—" Meliodas starts, but she cuts him off in the same breath as she leans back in, cupping the side of his face and pressing against him, her lips moving in and out and around his own with such urgency, and he groans in the back of his throat. His fingers tighten around her hips, in the same instant that she pulls away and pushes him back, and he stares at her, confusion clouding his green eyes.

"Why are you kissing me?" she demands. "You apologized this morning! You regretted our kiss! What the hell, Meliodas?"

 _What…the…? Oh, fuck. It._ Green darkens to dangerous black as Meliodas grabs her around her waist and at the back of her neck, pulling her back and down to him to claim her lips again, aggressively, possessively, and Elizabeth's fingers twist roughly in his hair.

Time pauses as the forest around them spins into oblivion, and there is just the two of them, in this moment, hungry and wanting, until they break apart again and green and blue eyes meet, calmer, and Meliodas' grip on Elizabeth relaxes and her hands slip down to rest on his shoulders. "Meliodas?"

The smile he gives her is a far cry from his usual cocky grin. His eyes have lightened, and swim now with the same tenderness she's seen just a handful of times, and quickly her mind cycles through the memories—Meliodas giving her his leather jacket for the first time, Meliodas rescuing her from that disastrous dinner— _"There's a lot you don't know about me, Elizabeth"_ — _"I'm glad you're alright, 'cause that's what really matters to me"_ —their first dance, their first kiss, and…maybe, just maybe…

"Meliodas, would you forget me if I asked you to?"

The forest is as silent as she, as she holds her breath, waiting for his answer, still straddling his motorcycle, still holding onto him. Meliodas drops his gaze.

"Elizabeth." Keeping one arm firmly around her waist, he reaches his other hand to cup her face, gently stroke her cheek with his thumb, brush her bangs out of her eyes, blue eyes he's dying to swim in.

"Elizabeth, I've been unable to forget you for even a second since the moment I laid eyes on you."

She gasps, her eyes filling with tears, and he wraps both arms around her. "I've never regretted a single moment I've spent with you."

She hugs his neck, burying her face in his shoulder. "Meliodas."

"I'm right here."

For a long time, they stand there together, both straddling the motorcycle, until the air cools and the sun is disappearing behind the treetops. Meliodas takes off his jacket and wraps it around Elizabeth, brushing his lips against her cheek. "Elizabeth, I've gotta get you home."

"Your home?" she asks hopefully.

"I'd love to, but Bartra will murder me, and then you won't have a date to that dance."

Her stomach flipflops.

"I'm gonna take you home, okay?"

Disappointed, she nods, but quickly brightens with an idea: "Can I drive?"

He laughs loudly. "You really do want me to die, don't you? No, Elizabeth, but another time. I promise, I'll take you out again."

Obligingly she lets him climb in front of her and this time she hugs him without hesitation, resting her head on his shoulder, and the bad boy blushes and smiles.


	16. Even When He's Good

– **16 –**

 **Even When He's Good**

Elizabeth steps timidly through one of the mansion's double front doors. It's quiet, and that's not out of the ordinary, so she gathers courage and bypasses escaping up the stairs to her room in favor of finding her family first.

"Elizabeth? Is that you?" Margaret calls from the living room, and Elizabeth finds her eldest sister perched on the piano bench with a blank page of sheet music in front of her and a pencil in her hand.

"Hi." Elizabeth takes a seat on the carpet at her sister's feet, drawing her knees up to her chest. Margaret gives her a knowing smile.

"How was your time away?"

Elizabeth blushes, and Margaret, bless her, doesn't push for details; but then Elizabeth sobers. "Does Father know?"

Her sister nods, soft lavender tendrils brushing across her shoulders. "He is…disappointed. But he must understand."

"Did you tell him everything?"

"No. It's your secret to tell, Ellie, and maybe when you are ready to tell him, he will be ready to hear it." Margaret offers a comforting smile, and reaches to pull Elizabeth up onto the bench next to her, where she hugs her sister. Elizabeth lowers her head onto her sister's shoulder with a sigh, and absently her fingers brush across the opal ring on her left hand.

"What do you think Mother would have to say?"

Margaret pulls away just enough to see Elizabeth eye to eye. "Mother would want you to be happy, and to make the choice that you want to make. Even if it were to disappoint her—whatever it may be—she would always be proud of you just for having the courage to choose. And she would stand behind your decision, no matter the outcome."

"You really think so?"

"I know it, Ellie. And I know Father will come around. He might need a little more time, and to ensure that his business with Mr. Pendragon will not be affected…but even if it were… Father loves you, and I think that what will really matter to him is for you to be happy, too."

"What did you tell him about me being gone yesterday?"

"I didn't. Veronica covered for you. She said you were with Diane."

"Thank you." Elizabeth hugs her sister tightly. "Where is Father now?"

"In his study."

* * *

Before she can talk herself out of it, Elizabeth raps sharply on the double doors to Bartra's study, two, three times.

 _"Come in!"_

"Father?" She slips inside and closes the door behind her, resting her back against it. "Are…I mean…um?"

Bartra raises his grey eyes, normally bright but now dull. "What is it, Elizabeth?"

"Father, I… I'm…" She walks to one of the leather chairs facing his desk and sits on the edge, knotting her hands in her lap. "Margaret said that you know."

"Yes."

"So…um…"

Her father sighs heavily, rubbing one hand across tired eyes. "I won't say that I'm not disappointed, Elizabeth."

"I know."

"I spoke to Arthur's father today. We'll continue to do business."

She brightens. "Oh, that's—"

"Elizabeth, I thought you would make the right choice for you and this family, and I don't think you have done that." He pauses, considering, and her throats closes up as she waits for him to go on. "Both of your sisters have assured me that there is more than I see now, that you had a reason, but neither would say what it might be, and Elizabeth, I need to know if I'm to understand. What reason could you possibly have for throwing away your future?"

Her head snaps up and she sucks in a sharp breath. "My…my future?"

 _Meliodas is my future._

But she can't bring herself to say that to her father.

Silently, hastily, she gets up and hurtles out of his study until she throws her bedroom door shut and sinks to the floor against it, trembling with violent tears.

* * *

 _Bzzzz. Bzzzzz._

Elizabeth raises her head and opens her eyes, groggy and disoriented. Her lower back is sore and her head is throbbing, and she's still sitting on the floor; she must have cried herself to sleep. What time is it now?

 _Bzzzz. Bzzzzz._

Yawning, she searches in the darkness for her phone, the source of the vibrating that must have woken her. She gropes around on the floor and then feels it buzz one more time, against her thigh, and her hand withdraws it from the pocket of her skirt, at the same moment she realizes she came home in the skimpy outfit from Meliodas, and that nobody said anything about it— _did they even notice? I'm sure Margaret noticed_ —and that yesterday— _is it yesterday, now?_ —was… She closes her eyes in a brief, blissful recollection, before checking her phone.

 **Diane**

U missed school AGAIN, were U w/ Meliodas?

Fine, don't tell me BUT we're still shopping Sat. rite? U have 2 look AMAZING 4 him! ;D ;D :D

 **Arthur**

Hey. Saw U missed school again, just want 2 make sure U R OK.

 **Meliodas**

Can't stop thinking about U. C U in the morning for school. U can drive my car. ;)

Diane's two texts make Elizabeth giggle, and she quickly replies yes to shopping and that she'll see her at school.

She reads Arthur's message and bites down on her bottom lip. Well.

 **Elizabeth**

I'm OK. Thank U.

When she comes to Meliodas' message, her stomach somersaults and the pinkest blush, the most genuine smile, spreads across her face. Her fingers fly over the touch screen.

 **Elizabeth**

U awake?

His reply is instant.

 **Meliodas**

Pretty much always. Y R U awake, Elizabeth?

 **Elizabeth**

What time is it?

 **Meliodas**

Dunno, look at your phone?

She can practically see his smirk, and she blushes as she glances at the digital clock on the screen. _It's after midnight! Must have been out for a while…_

 **Elizabeth**

Right. Y R U awake?

 **Meliodas**

Asked U first!

 **Elizabeth**

So?

 **Meliodas**

So!

 **Elizabeth**

Father's upset again, but this time he's disappointed in me, which is worse than mad.

 **Meliodas**

Why would he B disappointed?

 **Elizabeth**

M told him & he said I threw away my future.

Approximately seven miles northwest, Meliodas tenses when he reads Elizabeth's message. His own father never had much faith or pride in him, either, and even less after Meliodas took off, but he always thought Bartra was different; too wrapped up in his work, perhaps, but he seemed to cherish his daughters. But if he really said that to Elizabeth, maybe Meliodas put too much faith in _him_.

 **Meliodas**

Do U think you've thrown away your future?

 **Elizabeth**

No.

Elizabeth gazes at her phone, waiting, and after a beat it vibrates in her palm.

 **Meliodas**

:)

She smiles back.

 **Elizabeth**

I know I say it a lot, but thank U 4 everything.

 **Meliodas**

I just treat U like the princess U R.

 **Elizabeth**

I don't really feel like a princess.

 **Meliodas**

Then I'll have 2 try harder.

Pick U up in the morning. Go 2 sleep, Elizabeth.

Still smiling, Elizabeth climbs into her bed and snuggles into the soft warmth, holding her phone close. After a few seconds, there's one more message from Meliodas:

 **Meliodas**

Wear that short skirt again. ;)

Elizabeth's mouth drops open in surprise and she quickly moves the phone to her night table, as if to create some distance between herself and him. After a moment of thought, though, she rolls her eyes and bites her bottom lip to keep from smiling again. _Even when he's good, he's still bad._


	17. Every Part of Him

– **17 –**

 **Every Part of Him**

By the end of the week, word has spread throughout the halls that the golden couple, Elizabeth and Arthur, are no longer together—though the details have not spread beyond their circle of friends, for which both are grateful—Elizabeth even more so, because in spite of these details, none of them have ousted her from the circle, either. She knew Elaine and especially Diane wouldn't, but she was less sure of Ban and King, but they treat her as they always have whenever their paths cross. Even Arthur will give her a courteous greeting, whether she is near Meliodas or not.

The rest of their friends are not yet sure what to make of him.

"I mean…" Diane twirls a chocolate-brown curl around her finger in thought. "We don't really know anything about him, Elizabeth. _I_ don't know anything about him. Except that you dumped Arthur for him, and he comes across as just your stereotypical bad boy." She narrows her eyes as they darken. "Leather jacket, motorcycle, cigarettes, and he hasn't made an effort to get to know any of us—so, how can we _trust_ him? How can we possibly know that he's not just going to _hurt_ you?"

"Diane, he's not _dangerous_." Elizabeth gives her best friend a _look_ , punctuated by a deep swig of her cinnamon vanilla latte. It's Saturday afternoon, and after a successful journey to find the perfect dresses for the dance, the two girls are unwinding over coffee and pastries at the local coffee shop. "Do you honestly think I would spend time with him if he was?"

Vigorously Diane shakes her head. "That doesn't mean anything! Bad boys are _hot_!"

Elizabeth raises an eyebrow. "But on paper, Arthur is _perfect_. And my father told me that when I broke up with him, I _threw away_ my _future_. Don't you know that I wouldn't have done something like that if I didn't have a reason, if, somehow, I wasn't _sure_ about Meliodas? About every part of him?"

"Well… I guess not."

Elizabeth swallows thickly. "I get that you're worried, Diane. I wouldn't want anything less from you. But…when we were together and when I first got paired up with Meliodas for our project, Arthur was kind of concerned, too, like he didn't trust him, like he was afraid for what might happen to me. But there have been so many opportunities, and he hasn't done _anything_." She fills Diane in on her time with Meliodas, and Diane's eyes widen with each new story.

"I'd say he's a bad influence on you if you weren't sitting in front of me, the same Elizabeth you've always been." Diane shakes her head again, this time in incredulity. "But it sounds like he takes such good care of you, really…I'm almost envious." She laughs.

"But, look, Elizabeth, okay? If he does _anything_ to you, _one_ foot out of line…" Diane narrows her violet eyes again and clenches her hands into fists on the table. "He'll regret it."

Elizabeth grins in relief. She couldn't ask for a better promise from her best friend.

* * *

Veronica is tromping down the stairs when Elizabeth walks in the front door. "Ellie, you're here! Father wants to see you in his study."

"Okay." Elizabeth leaves her shopping bags at the foot of the staircase and takes a deep breath. _Maybe it's a good sign; maybe he came around already!_

One of the doors is propped open, so she walks in without knocking and perches on one of the chairs. "You wanted to see me, Father?"

"Yes, Elizabeth." His head is bent over the open planner on his desk, and Elizabeth waits patiently while he checks off a few items, makes a few notes, types a few figures into a calculator at his left hand and notes them down. She narrows her eyes, straining to read just a little of whatever's in front of him, but she can't make any of it out, and as soon as he catches her he closes the planner with a quiet _thump_. "Business, Elizabeth. Nothing for you to worry about."

"Y-yes, Father."

"So." He folds his hands in front of him on the desk and gives his youngest daughter his full attention. "Tell me about this dance."

 _Um…_ Her stomach suddenly twists into an apprehensive knot. "What about it?"

"Well. I had lunch with Arthur's father today, and he mentioned to me that there is a dance coming up at your school in a couple of weeks—"

"Three weeks," Elizabeth mumbles before she can stop herself.

"—and that, since you declined Arthur's invitation, he is thinking of asking another classmate of yours, Meryl or something like that—"

Elizabeth knits her eyebrows together. _He's taking Merlin? Why didn't Diane tell me?_

"—which, if the two of you are no longer together, he is free to do. However, I feel compelled to ask whether you have a date to this dance, as well, Elizabeth."

"Um—well, I—" She fidgets.

He pauses expectantly.

"There—there is…someone…" _Do I tell him? Do I not?_ "Um…"

She falls silent, and after another moment, Bartra sighs.

"Frankly, Elizabeth, I am still not happy with your decision, and I hope that you still might reconsider."

 _What? Reconsider?_

"In the meantime, however, I am concerned that you're not thinking clearly about your decision or the situation in which you've put yourself—and, importantly, the effect it might have on your future. As your father, I only want what's best for you, and Arthur is it. I am not comfortable allowing you to attend this occasion with anybody else. I _strongly suggest_ you use these next three weeks to rethink your decisions, and when you make the _right_ one, then you may go."

Elizabeth remains frozen in her seat, stunned.

Bartra reopens the planner on his desk and resumes note-taking; after a short pause he glances back up at his daughter, who still has not moved. "Dismissed, Elizabeth."

* * *

"You can't _miss_ the _dance_ , Elizabeth!" Diane practically screeches, and Elizabeth yanks the phone away from her ear with a sigh.

"It's not even about the dance now, Diane. It's basically that Father is not even giving me any _choice_. Margaret said he'd come around, but…"

Diane is silent on the other end, and Elizabeth can picture her best friend's sober frown.

"But you made your choice already, didn't you?"

Elizabeth plucks at the threading on her duvet. "I…did, but…"

"You've always been a daddy's girl but when are you going to accept the fact that maybe your father _doesn't_ have a better idea of what's best for you than _you_ do?"

"I…"

"Think about it, Elizabeth." Diane hangs up.

* * *

Elizabeth contemplates. Considers. Wonders. Ponders.

Finally, she climbs out the window.

* * *

The Boar's Hat Tavern's front door is closed at this late hour of the night, and when nobody answers Elizabeth's knock, she pulls a bobby pin from her hair and jimmies the lock. _Thank you, Veronica_ , she breathes as she hears a quiet click, and turns the knob to let herself inside.

The open room downstairs is silent and shrouded in shadow, so she moves carefully throughout the space, letting her fingers brush against smooth wooden chair backs and polished tabletops so as to not trip over any pieces of furniture that might be in her path. Her footsteps echo quietly across the hardwood floor as she moves to the staircase, and she breathes in the faint aromas of cigarette smoke and coffee beans— _Meliodas._ Quietly, slowly, she mounts the stairs.

As she reaches the second-floor landing, light spills into the hallway from an open door, and she hears Meliodas stomping around his bedroom, speaking to somebody, with pauses of silence in between. _He must be on the phone._ She halts, a few stair steps from the top, and cranes her neck to eavesdrop.

" _No_ , Estarossa," Meliodas says. "I _don't_ have plans to come home any time soon, and if Father has a problem with that, tell him to pick up the phone and take it up with me himself rather than getting you and Zeldris to try guilt-tripping me into it." He steps into view of the doorway, and Elizabeth just barely glimpses the hand at his side clench into a fist. " _No_ , I did _not_ meet a girl, and if I did, I certainly wouldn't tell _any_ of you about her."

A pang shoots through Elizabeth's stomach.

Meliodas stops in his tracks suddenly, his face growing very dark. " _Do…not_ ," he hisses through clenched teeth, " _speak of her. Ever._ "

 _Speak of who?_ Elizabeth wonders. _Who is he…does he…?_

A very loud crash scares her, then, the sound of something hitting the wall, glass breaking, and before she realizes what she's doing, she's propelled herself up the last few steps and into the room—skids to a stop.

"Elizabeth." Meliodas' naked back is to her, his hands still tightly clenched, and his shoulders heave up and down as anger simmers off of him in very controlled waves. His phone lies in several places across the floor, in pieces from impact against the wall. "How long have you been here?"

She's quiet. Fearful. —And he lets out a heavy sigh, his shoulders slumping, and turns to face her, anguished emotion burning in his emerald eyes. He takes a step toward her, reaching out a hand, and she takes a small step away, surprising him.

"Who…who were you talking to?" she whispers.

He continues to look at her, questioning.

She swallows. "Did…did you mean it? What you said?"

He lets his hand fall to his side. "No."

"No?"

"No." This time when he reaches out, she allows him to take her hand, very gently, and pull her to sit down on the edge of the bed at his side. He brushes strands of hair away from her face, allowing his fingertips to linger against her cheek. "I'm sorry you had to hear that, Elizabeth."

She doesn't pull away, but she doesn't respond, and so he goes on.

"That was my younger brother on the phone. Estarossa. Calling to tell me yet again that our father is demanding that I return home. But home isn't a place I want to go. There's nothing for me there, and my family… My father, and Estarossa, and my youngest brother, Zeldris. They're not good people, not people I want to be around." He pauses. "Not…not people I want to know that you even exist, Elizabeth. So I had to lie. To protect you."

"But why?"

"Because…because I couldn't protect Liz."

Elizabeth chews thoughtfully on the inside of her cheek, narrowing her eyes in perception. "Did you mean Liz when you said not to speak of her? Who is she?"

Meliodas pulls away from her then as he draws in a deep breath to compose himself, but this time it's Elizabeth who touches his hand, and when he looks at her, she's stunned to see unshed tears glistening in his eyes. When he speaks, his voice is thick with those tears, gravelly. "She… _was_ …my girlfriend. A long time ago. But…when my father found out…and my brothers…"

A tear splashes warmly onto Elizabeth's hand on top of his.

"I was happy. They wouldn't let me be happy, and there was…the police investigation concluded it was an accident, but I _knew_ it wasn't."

"I'm so sorry," she whispers, and without thinking she wraps her arms around Meliodas and he leans into her embrace.

"I hurt her because I was careless," he whispers, "and I lost her because I couldn't protect her." He pulls away to look into her eyes, and his are burning with a fire of such intensity as she's never seen. "So I have to protect _you_ , Elizabeth. Because if you disappear from my life, I'll have no reason to live."

"Meliodas—" Her words are cut off as he seals his mouth over hers in a kiss filled with every part of him.


	18. Each Other

**A/N: THE FOLLOWING CHAPTER IS RATED M.**

* * *

 **–** **18 –**

 **Each Other**

Elizabeth's heartbeat quickens as Meliodas' fingers graze underneath her blouse, his lips trailing feathery kisses down her neck. Lightly, she digs her fingernails into his bare shoulders, each of their breaths coming quickly and heavily, and Meliodas tenses for just an instant before dipping his head down to capture her lips in a kiss that leaves her breathless and wanting.

"Meliodas…please…" she pants, flushed.

"Please…what?" His emerald eyes are dark with pleasure, and the scorching look he gives her causes something deep inside her to clench in the most delicious way.

"Please…don't…don't s-stop…"

"I'm so… _glad_ …you came…over." Each word is punctuated by his lips or his teeth or his fingers on her skin, as tender as urgent, and Elizabeth dissolves into the feeling of his weight on top of hers through the thin fabric of her clothing, even as her arms rise to circle around his neck and pull him _closer_.

She arches her back off the pillows on the bed as he grasps the hem of her shirt, and she sits up to allow him to pull it above her shoulders and over her head, and he moves to toss it toward the foot of the bed but stops, caught by _her_ in his peripheral vision…

Elizabeth, a _vision_ , in dark blue velvet shorts giving way at mid-thigh to long legs splayed out and bare, silver hair an unkempt mess around slender shoulders, and a bra… Meliodas' mouth goes dry. Sweet, baby pink, with an overlay of angelic pale blue lace, against the soft creaminess of her skin. He swallows, groaning deep in the back of his throat, and for a very brief second he wonders if she might have worn it just for him. " _E-liz-a-beth…_ "

He lets her name trail off of his lips, and _oh_ , the way he _said_ it… Elizabeth bows her head shyly, a pink blush coloring her cheeks, and he catches her chin with rough fingertips and lifts her wide-eyed gaze to meet his. "Don't be afraid, Elizabeth."

"I—I'm n-not," she stammers, glancing away as her blush deepens. "But…I'm—I haven't… I mean…" She wrings her hands together in her lap, looks down at them, and then back up to Meliodas, and in a moment he understands. He presses a chaste kiss to her forehead.

"We're going to take this slow, Elizabeth. Real slow, and you are in control. If I hurt you, if you want me to stop—you let me know instantly."

She nods an assent, and nods again with a small smile as he looks at her questioningly, the fingers of one hand hovering over the button on her shorts, the other at the clasp of her bra. Slowly, he pulls them off and glides his hands over her skin; her heart races and she draws in a deep, shaking breath, with the sudden realization that she is now laid almost bare in front of him. But then his emerald eyes meet and hold her sapphire gaze, swimming with tenderness, affection, reassurance, and mostly, mostly, hunger.

Elizabeth reaches up and pulls his head down to hers, holding him close, and he moves over her, undoing his pants with one hand and bracing his weight above her with the other, and she traces her fingertips over the planes of his chest and abdomen, pausing for a moment to feel his heartbeat flutter beneath her touch. When he's worked himself free of his clothing, she can't help but let her eyes travel downward, and her breath catches in surprise, and she feels the pull of curiosity… She looks back up at him. "May I…?"

When he nods, she allows her fingertips to glide up and down his soft skin, over the tip, and he hisses in restrained pleasure. Experimentally she wraps her hand around him, strokes up and down, and is rewarded by a tiny bead of liquid, and as she explores his body in fascination, Meliodas is fascinated by her.

"Will it hurt?" she questions softly.

"At first." Meliodas levels a very serious gaze at her. "Elizabeth, we don't have to do this."

"I…want…to." The moment she utters the words, she realizes how true they are. _I want to be with you._

"Elizabeth, I…" He trails off, unsure, not wanting to scare her away if it's too soon to say it.

The glowing smile she gives him is more than enough reassurance. "I know."

Elizabeth tilts her head up to receive his kiss, gasping as she feels him shift over her, and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue between her lips, eliciting a sigh from the girl, a quiet moan. Open beneath him, she wraps her arms around his shoulders, fingernails digging once more into his skin as, painstakingly slowly, he enters, desperately trying to keep himself in check at the _heavenly_ sensation of being wrapped up inside of her, and watching her closely for signs of pain or regret as she becomes accustomed.

There are none and he continues to move, with her now as she rolls her hips to match his rhythm, slowly then more urgently—kissing, caressing, love making—until they are lost to each other.


	19. A Sin

**–** **19 –**

 **A Sin**

When Meliodas wakes up in the morning, Elizabeth is gone, and her side of the bed is cool.

He has no idea what to think. He slept so soundly last night that she could have run screaming from the tavern after what they did, and it probably would not have woken him—so maybe that's what happened. _Fuck. You've ruined her, you've scared her away, it was too much, too fast, too_ —he closes his eyes in memory of how she felt, tangled up with him— _perfect._

How will he be able to face her again, though, if she couldn't even face him in the morning? Or maybe—maybe, she left, because it wasn't him she couldn't face, but the truth of last night? He supposes he could handle if Elizabeth couldn't face _him_ , but if he's pushed her to a point where she can't even face _herself_ now… _Please. Don't let that be my sin._

He drags a hand through his hair and goes downstairs in search of breakfast, or perhaps alcohol to dull the niggling pain of her absence.

* * *

"Meliodas!"

His head shoots up. Elizabeth turns away from the stove and gives him a bright smile, a spatula in one hand and a plate piled high with fluffy golden pancakes in the other. She sets the plate on the counter and scoops two pancakes to another plate, generously buttering them and sliding them across the bar top to Meliodas, who takes one of the stools, eyes following her every move in amazement that not only did she _stay_ , but she is _cooking him breakfast_.

"What?" She catches the incredulity in his expression, and she waves the spatula at him. "Despite how hard it is to screw up pancakes, I wasn't going to let _you_ cook."

Green eyes laugh mirthfully as he reaches for the syrup.

Elizabeth has thought of everything: fresh coffee, cold milk, tangy orange juice, and as soon as she finishes cooking, she makes herself a plate and hops up on the barstool next to him.

"These are really good, Elizabeth," Meliodas compliments around a mouthful. The pancakes are rapidly disappearing from his plate. She beams at his praise.

"Maybe," he teases after gulping his milk, "we should just skip the dance and you can cook something here!"

Elizabeth's fork stills on the plate as she remembers why she snuck out last night to come here in the first place.

Meliodas is quick to note her dimmed cheerfulness. "I'm not serious!"

"No…that's not it." She pushes her plate away and leans on the bar, hugging herself. "I…actually came by last night because I needed to talk to you."

"Oh. So you didn't come to spend the night making passionate love?" He raises an eyebrow, feigning disappointment, but his eyes are twinkling as she chokes on her coffee, her face redder than ever before.

"N-n-no, that's not—I mean, not that I didn't enjoy it—I—I mean…" Flustered, she trips and tumbles over the words, tries to take another drink of coffee, chokes again, and coughs desperately.

Meliodas thumps her gently on the back. "I was only joking, Elizabeth." His voice is softer, and he winds an arm around her waist to pull her closer and kiss her forehead. "What do you need to talk to me about?"

He refills her coffee and waits patiently while she catches her breath and gathers her thoughts.

"It's about the dance. Father…basically told me that I'm not allowed to go unless it's with Arthur."

"I see."

She rushes on: "But I don't want to go with him! I want to go with you."

"Then we'll go." Calmly he polishes off the rest of his pancakes and drains his milk glass.

"We…will?"

"Sure, Elizabeth. If that's what you want, then that's what we'll do."

"But—"

"Elizabeth." The firmness of his voice prompts her to close her mouth. "It's not Bartra's decision. You need to trust that _you_ know what's best for you." He takes one of her hands and intertwines their fingers. "You should be able to do whatever makes you happy, and if that is going to the dance with me, then we will."

"I don't want him to know—to get you in trouble," she whispers, looking down at the counter.

"It would be a sin for me not to come to the door and greet both of you properly," he counters, mischievously winking. "I can take care of myself. And you."


	20. To The Stars

**–** **20 –**

 **To The Stars**

When Elizabeth arrives home, her sisters catch her at the door and scold her for not even leaving a note, or taking her phone—but Veronica covered for her, so she is safe. For now.

* * *

Elizabeth stands in front of a mirror, studying her reflection. Cerulean eyes gaze pensively back at her, lined and shadowed with sparkle, and Veronica's clever sweep of blush brought to prominence high cheekbones that Elizabeth never realized she has. Silver hair has been swept up by Margaret in preparation for the dance this evening, secured by an antique opal hair comb of Mother's, to match the ring on Elizabeth's left hand. She twirls the stone around her finger nervously. _I hope Meliodas likes my dress…_

Shorter and sparklier than any other piece of clothing she's ever worn, the dress is a simple sheath that falls to mid-thigh, off the shoulder with long sleeves and a sweetheart neckline. She fingers the rosy gold sequins, admires the length of her legs in matching pumps.

"You look beautiful, Elizabeth," she whispers to her reflection, trying to calm her racing heart.

"You sure do, sweetheart."

She whirls around. Her father is standing in the doorway, wearing a knowing smile of pride, and Elizabeth grips the bathroom countertop for support. _Oh, no._

"I take it you reconsidered, after our conversation?"

"I…" Elizabeth stammers.

"I'm just glad to know that you made the _right_ decision," he continues firmly. His grey eyes twinkle with pride.

Elizabeth takes a deep breath and squares her shoulders, just as the doorbell rings below. "Yes, Father. I did." Quickly she swipes some gloss over her lips, grabs a beaded clutch purse from her bed, and hastens downstairs to answer the door.

"Yo, Elizab—" Meliodas trails off as his eyes drink her in, and a blush creeps across his skin as he rubs a hand over the back of his neck. "Wow."

"Hi." She smiles shyly at him in the soft light from the porch, equally enamored. He's stunning in black slacks that just brush the tops of polished leather shoes and a black blazer over a black button-down. She remembers the ties she found in his closet, but he's not wearing one. "You look great."

"So do you." He smiles easily, having gotten over his initial speechlessness, but then his dark green eyes focus on something over Elizabeth's shoulder. "Hello, Bartra."

Elizabeth tenses, slowly turning around to face her father.

Bartra descends the staircase with stormy grey eyes and heavy steps that _thud_ perfectly in rhythm with Elizabeth's pounding heart. Meliodas places a gentle hand on the small of her back as he steps into the foyer, and Elizabeth quietly closes the door behind him as her father reaches the bottom steps. "Meliodas. I was not aware we had business to attend to tonight."

"Actually, sir, I am here to escort Elizabeth to the dance at our school." His tone and expression are calm and respectful.

Bartra raises an eyebrow. "' _Our?_ '"

"Yes, sir. I enrolled at the beginning of this semester, shortly after I came to town. Your daughter and I even have a class together."

Bartra's critical gaze turns to Elizabeth.

"H-history," she murmurs.

"You are a high school student, and you own a tavern," Bartra muses. Disapprovingly.

Elizabeth gulps.

"Yes." Meliodas is still calm.

"And you're here because you want to…date…my…daughter." Bartra speaks very slowly, turning the words over and over in his mind.

"That's right." Meliodas' hand presses a little more firmly against Elizabeth, and she takes a small and unconscious step closer to him, wide eyes fixed on her father, pleading their case.

"No."

"N-no?" Elizabeth squeaks, panic rising. "But Father—!"

"Return to your room, Elizabeth. Meliodas, it has been a pleasure to do business with you."

He turns his back on them and strides down the hall, until the house trembles just slightly with the slamming of his study door. Elizabeth fixes her gaze on the marble floor, tears trickling down her face.

"Elizabeth—hey—come here."

She's surprised to feel a pair of strong arms wrap around her.

"Shhhhh," Meliodas soothes, brushing his thumbs over her cheeks. "Don't cry."

"Meli—I'm so—sorr—all my—fault," she chokes. One of his arms slides around her waist while the other rubs her back, and she hides her face in his neck. "I—I tried to—myown—decision—"

"I know, baby. I know." He cups her chin. "Hey. We're going to get out of here, okay?"

Shaking, hyperventilating, she nods.

"Ellie?"

Veronica is perched on the staircase landing, one hand on the banister and one foot on the step below her as she must have stopped short, wide amber eyes fixed on her sister's distraught face.

"What's happened?" Margaret enters the hall and glances from her surprised sister to her tearful one. "Elizabeth—"

"Go," Veronica interrupts, now looking at Meliodas. She gestures toward Elizabeth. "We'll cover for her."

"Meliodas, thank you for taking care of our Ellie," Margaret says softly.

"That goes without question. I love her _._ " He spirits Elizabeth out into the night.

* * *

The further Meliodas drives them from the Liones mansion, the calmer Elizabeth becomes. Eventually, her sobs have tapered off into sniffles, and she uncurls herself from the passenger seat of his lime Corvette and flips open the visor mirror. "Goddesses, I'm a mess." The evening has already left her emotionally exhausted and she heaves a sigh.

Meliodas reaches across the console to hold her hand, vehemently shaking his golden head. "You always look beautiful, Elizabeth."

"Meliodas, I'm s—"

"Nope," he cuts her off. "Don't even say it."

"But—"

"You have _nothing_ to apologize for, Elizabeth." Emerald eyes flick toward her in the semidarkness, and she closes her mouth obligingly. Gently pulls her hand from his so she can redo her makeup, and she giggles at his noise of protest.

After she finishes, and she realizes they've been driving too long to be going to the school, she gives him a sideways look. "Meliodas, where are we going?"

He grins. "To the stars."

* * *

The car glides around a few more curves and turns, finally braking just outside of the beach boardwalk.

"At this point in our relationship I probably shouldn't be surprised that you brought me to someplace we're not supposed to go," Elizabeth comments, watching the _Closed_ sign swing back and forth in the night breeze.

"Re _la_ tion _ship_?" He quirks a teasing eyebrow and is rewarded by her blush.

"Wait here—" He clambers from the car and slides smoothly across the hood to land on her side, where he opens her door and offers his hand. "Come on, Elizabeth."

She kicks off her pumps and he pulls her out of the car, stopping just long enough to remove his shoes as well. Past the boardwalk, they sink bare feet into the velvety sand dunes, hand in hand, fingers laced.

When Elizabeth and her sisters were children, their father would bring them to this very beach to spend golden summer afternoons. Margaret would take Elizabeth by the hand and drag her up and down the beach in search of the prettiest seashells to decorate the sandcastle Bartra would help Veronica meticulously perfect, and sometimes Elizabeth would fall asleep on a huge towel spread beneath the most enormous, most colorful umbrella, and wake the next morning in her bed, tiny grains of sand dusting the pillowcase.

But the full moon has stripped the beach of life and color and an eerie surreality lingers—obsidian waves, silhouetted in white foam, against silver sand, and Elizabeth privately entertains a brief fantasy in which she and Meliodas are the last two, the only two, people in the world.

Gently he pulls her toward the shoreline, where icy water laps gently over their bare feet, and washes traces of prints from the sand. "What are you thinking about, Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth's silver hair glows radiantly in the silver light, and when she turns her blue eyes heavenward, they reflect the stars. "It's beautiful, isn't it?"

"Yeah." But he's not looking at the stars or the sea.

"Would you…rather have…still gone to the dance?" he asks slowly. She turns to look at him and is surprised to find worry clouding his features.

"No." She offers her sweetest smile, just for him. He relaxes.

"Meliodas, would you like to dance?"

Eyes sparkling like gemstones, he takes her in his arms.


	21. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

 **21 Days Later**

 **A/N: So…this is it. With this chapter, this story will be complete, and as of right now I have no plans for a sequel, but I am excited for the possibility of other stories in the future. A huge hug and thank you to everybody who has read, followed, favorited this story, and for every comment, suggestion, review I received. I read each one of them every time, and your support and excitement over this piece has meant the world to me. Thank you, so much, from the bottom of my heart.** ❤︎

* * *

"…and that is, in essence, a history of Britannia, as seen through one of Britannia's greatest legends, the goddess and the demon," Elizabeth concludes proudly. "Questions?"

When none of their classmates venture questions, Mr. Zaratras leans back in his desk chair, thoughtfully stroking his chin. "Whose idea was it to utilize Britannian mythology, and this story in particular, as a frame for your presentation?"

"It was Meliodas' idea, actually." Elizabeth half turns with a small smile toward her partner, leaning casually against the white board on the other side of their presentation materials. He dressed up for today: white button-down beneath the signature leather jacket, a red tie slung loosely around his neck. He smirks back at her, green eyes narrowed, and something inside of her somersaults. "He even hand-drew this for our report." She clicks a couple of buttons on the projector remote control and the portrait of the goddess and the demon, adapted from their book, swirls into focus, black and gold, and a quiet murmur ripples throughout the class. Mr. Z leans forward, elbows on his desk, and surveys the image with a critical eye.

 _Forty percent of our final grade_ , Elizabeth remembers, and she holds her breath.

"Well," he says finally. "The two of you have certainly put a lot of thought and effort into this project. I'm very impressed by the detail you've put into your drawing, Meliodas, and into your presentation as a whole, and I must commend you both on your originality. Very nicely done; thank you." He claps his hands, and the class bursts into applause as the two of them take their seats.

* * *

Mr. Z dismisses the class with promises to have their grades posted by the end of the day. Meliodas walks Elizabeth to her next class, and the one after that, and the one after that, until the lunch bell rings.

"Do you want to sit with your friends today, Elizabeth?" Meliodas questions as she swaps textbooks at her locker. "It's been more than a month, hasn't it?"

It has, but she hesitates. Even though she and Arthur are cordial, she doesn't go out of her way to spend time around him so that they don't have to dance politely around the short, blond elephant in the room.

"Yes—it's been weeks, Elizabeth!" Diane cuts in, materializing from seemingly nowhere and gripping Elizabeth by the arm. She widens her violet eyes in a plea. "We miss you."

"Um—" Blue eyes dart nervously between violet and green, and Diane turns her gaze on Meliodas.

"Sit with us today."

He opens and closes his mouth, caught off guard.

"Both of you. Come on, sit with us!"

"Oh…kay." Elizabeth glances quickly at Meliodas and he shrugs one of his shoulders, following as Diane drags Elizabeth down the hall.

The cafeteria is full, lunch already in full swing, and Diane marches right up to what was once Elizabeth's usual table in the middle of the room, where King, Ban, Elaine, and Arthur are already chattering away over sandwiches and slices of pizza. Elaine's amber eyes light up when Diane all but shoves Elizabeth and Meliodas into two empty chairs and then commandeers the last one.

"Um—hey, guys," Elizabeth stutters, feeling shyer around her friends than she has in weeks. "Diane…said…"

"We _have_ missed you!" Elaine squeals, throwing her tiny frame into Elizabeth's arms. "And Meliodas! It's so good to _finally_ , you know, _meet_ you!"

"Yeah, it's good to have you back, Elizabeth," King chimes in. He glances at Ban, and both of them look at Arthur. Diane narrows her eyes, and Elaine and Elizabeth wait in apprehension.

Arthur doesn't acknowledge the unease. He clears his throat, meeting Meliodas' eyes. "Good to see you again, Meliodas." He offers his hand.

The tension on Meliodas' face splits into a grin as he accepts Arthur's handshake. "It's good to see you too."

* * *

Just after the final bell, Meliodas finds Elizabeth in the hallway at her locker, laughing with Diane and Elaine. "Elizabeth! Has Mr. Z posted our grade yet?"

"Let me see." She waves goodbye to her girlfriends and logs into her student account on her phone to check. "Here it is: 'Britannian History Partner Project, worth 40 percent…' Yes!" She throws her arms around him. "A-minus!"

He spins her around in the hallway, laughing. ❤︎


End file.
